Tethered
by yutes
Summary: It has been one year since the fall of the Republic and the rise of the Empire, and yet, hope remains. Padme Amidala works tirelessly to protect the democracy that she loves, and to further the agenda of the Rebel Alliance, but everything changes when Emperor Palpatine introduces his apprentice, Darth Vader, to the political scene. Anidala/Vadme
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I've always wanted Padme to have her own spin off series or movie because she'll always be my favorite, and how awesome would an intergalactic political drama be? I've had the idea for this story in the back of my mind and I've finally had the inspiration to sit down and actually start it and make the story of my dreams a reality.

I KNOW, I KNOW, I'm currently working on another story. But sometimes you have to throw caution to the wind and just do what you're passionate about. I will continue to work on A World in One Room, of course!

This chapter's song is On The Hills of Manchuria by Ilya Alekseevich Shatrov. It's one of my favorite waltzes and I can totally picture it being played at some type of Imperial ball or party or whatever it is they do. Listen here: watch?v=Sfhp1-69Y8U

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Resolve**

" _A man who is used to acting in one way never changes; he must come to ruin when the times, in changing, no longer are in harmony with his ways."_

 _ **Niccolo Machiavelli, The Prince**_

* * *

Padme Amidala was tired, in more ways than one. Parties like these had never bothered her before, though they had never given her much joy either. The greatest pleasure she could derive from gatherings such as these was to stay close to the ones she could trust, which was becoming increasingly more difficult as their numbers dwindled.

She stood by Bail Organa now for this reason, and also because he had insisted upon her showing up, standing in her office and refusing to take no for an answer. He knew that she didn't care to socialize with Imperials, hated it even, but he also knew that her avoidance of them was sure to rouse suspicions if it hadn't already. He was an old friend, someone in whom Padme had confided in for many years. They had met when she was young, and new to the political arena and the two had remained close ever since.

Padme had become a gifted liar since the rise of the Empire, and if Bail hadn't known any better he would assume that the young Senator was having a wonderful time, with her demure politician's smile. But her defenses were raised high, and this much was clear to anyone who knew her well.

"Things seem to be dying down," Padme said, taking a small sip of her drink, "I'd like to leave soon." She was never much for alcohol. She hated the taste and its effects didn't appeal to her either. She needed to be in control, but even she had to admit that she had had too much. The stress of the night had already taken its toll on the young senator.

"But the Emperor hasn't arrived yet. If you don't stay at least until then coming will have been a complete waste."

 _The Emperor._

Of all the people that she hated, if she had actually taken the time to write out a list, Emperor Palpatine would make the top spot a thousand times over. After all, he was to blame for the state of things, the death of democracy. He was a master manipulator, he had everyone fooled for such a long time, even her. The thought that he had come to power under her watch plagued her every day to the point where she found herself replaying every one of their interactions in her mind, looking for hints that she might've missed. It left her with no peace.

But as bad as Palpatine was, he was nowhere near as terrifying as his infamous apprentice, Darth Vader. Not much was known about him, as only a handful of people had seen him and lived to talk about it, but they were mostly military officials. Some of the other senators in her circle speculated that he was responsible for the deaths of hundreds of thousands of people. The Emperor was a civilized man, Darth Vader was not. He was the brute who did Palpatine's dirty work for him. Vader didn't speak much either, only when it was required of him and not a word more.

There was one conspiracy theory after another about him. Some said he was a droid designed by the Emperor to do his bidding. This idea had some merit, as Vader _was_ uncommonly loyal. In her experience, Padme had found that most Imperial officers were easily corruptible. But he wasn't. Others claimed that he was deformed or of some obscure alien species in order to answer the question of why he covered his face. Not that it mattered either way, but she couldn't help but wonder.

Padme wasn't sure who she held more contempt for, because at least that apprentice of his had a reputation for his straightforwardness. She hated liars, and she hated even more that she had become one. But was she truly to blame? She was an important member of the Alliance, which relied on deception for survival. If there was any hope left in the galaxy it rested with the Rebels.

Thoughts of her newfound role in the Alliance filled her head. While the other partygoers were standing by idly, Padme was comforted by the thought that she was not. And even if she had lost bits and pieces of herself in the process, she reassured herself that she lied for the sake of a righteous cause. Things weren't so black and white anymore, and more often than not she found herself swimming in shades of gray.

She looked around the room and scoffed at the display. They were either power hungry deviants or exceptional fools, and Padme concluded that the former constituted the majority. Most of them didn't engage her past what was considered polite; it was no secret that she was a dissenter. Men who were interested in her were the sole exception to the rule, and yet another reason to avoid these functions that Padme had forgotten about. She found herself wishing she had worn something more modest, but she wondered if it would make any difference. That night she wore a simple black dress with her hair tied back in a bun.

But after making the rounds and making conversation with almost everyone in the room, she was tired. According to Bail, the Emperor always arrived late and made a grand entrance.

"Are you two having fun?" Bail and Padme turned their heads to see that it was the voice of another one of their friends, Mon Mothma.

"How could we not be?" Bail said with all the sincerity he could muster.

"Yes, it truly is a lovely party," Padme said, but her words were empty.

"But you've spent so much of the night standing to the side of the room, it looks bad," Mon said in a hushed whisper.

Padme knew that she was right, but she wasn't sure if she could muster the energy for another dance, or for more stifled conversation.

"I apologize, I'm not feeling quite like myself tonight," Padme said, "Have you made contact with Obi-wan?"

She remembered the last time she had seen the Jedi, it had to have been months. Obi-wan had been one of the few to escape the Emperor's wrath and was currently in hiding on Dantooine, where he was supervising the construction of a Rebel base. Padme thought of how bored he must be, but it was for his own safety that he lay low. If anyone could challenge the Emperor, it was him.

"Lower your voice," Mon commanded before looking around the room to make sure that no one had heard them, "Not here. We will convene later tonight if the circumstances allow it."

But before Padme could respond, the doors at the front of the ballroom swung open and the room was filled with rapturous applause. She wasn't able to see over the heads of the other people in the room, but she figured she wasn't missing much, so she began to clap as well.

"He's here," Bail said, relieved.

Something felt off, and after a few seconds of applause the room fell totally silent. Padme had never known a group this size to be so quiet, and she began imagining one possible scenario after another, each worse than the last.

"What's going on?" Padme said, scanning the room and trying to see over the heads of the others to try and see over them. She hated not knowing what was happening, and in that moment she wished she wasn't so short.

"It can't be," Mon said.

"I don't understand, why would the Emperor bring him here?"

"To frighten us, no doubt. Rumor has it that he reads minds," Bail said.

Padme was able to get a better look at Vader from across the room, but she regretted that there wasn't much to see. He was abnormally tall, but he wore a long cloak that covered his face completely and hid his figure. He did nothing but walk beside Palpatine and scare the living hell out of everyone in the room. As much as she hated to admit it, she took a small amount of pleasure in seeing the frightened faces of her rivals.

"That's impossible, nobody has that much power," Padme said nervously, the pressure of the party was enough without the threat of yet another Sith lord weighing down on her.

"It's true, I've met him," Mon said, "I've seen him do it to someone before strangling them on the spot for treasonous thoughts."

"We have to leave now then, it's not safe," Padme said. She paused to wait for her friends to nod their heads in agreement, but neither of them did.

"If anything, this means we have to stay. Don't look, but he keeps glancing in our direction. This cannot be good," Mon said.

"We need to split up for a while, we look suspicious huddled together like this," Bail whispered.

They nodded their heads in agreement, and the two said their goodbyes before leaving Padme in her corner of the room. She felt even more on edge now that she was alone. Before she had known about Darth Vader, she might've been able to focus but the possibility of her thoughts being infiltrated had shaken her. That was her private sphere, and though she could do well hiding her secrets behind a poker face, there was nothing she could do to protect her mind.

 _I'm as good as dead, and so is the Alliance if I'm caught,_ she thought.

Padme scanned the room once again in a desperate attempt to find someone to talk to.

"Senator Amidala, how wonderful it is to see you." Padme turned to see Palpatine standing beside her.

"The pleasure is all mine, Emperor Palpatine," she said with a smile.

"I don't believe you've met my apprentice."

"No, I don't believe I've had the honor," Padme said dryly, extending her right hand and holding it there for about a minute before she concluded that Darth Vader didn't shake other people's hands. She didn't expect him to reciprocate the gesture anyway, and in many ways it was a relief. He simply nodded in acknowledgement.

"Like I said, it brings me great joy to see you here. You've been very… absent as of late and I am not the only one who has noticed."

"It was not my intention to seem disinterested, I assure you. I am very busy with work is all," Padme said.

"You know as well as I how the other Senators talk, I certainly don't need to remind you of how quickly rumors spread, do I?" Palpatine said.

"Of course not, your excellency."

"Good. If you'll pardon me, I need to speak with someone," the Emperor said with a polite smile before leaving her with Vader in tow. Padme thought it peculiar that Palpatine never addressed his apprentice in speech. He hadn't said _pardon us,_ or _we need to speak with someone._ From what she had seen, he appeared to be nothing more than a shadow.

Padme made her way toward the door as soon as she was certain she was free of unwanted company, and surprisingly enough, she was able to slip out unnoticed. The exit led to a large outdoor area, which was, unfortunately, packed with people. She sighed and clutched the rail. It was cool to the touch, and the night air was chilly.

They must have thought the sky to have been very beautiful that night, but the light pollution of Coruscant blocked the stars and moon from view. It truly paled in comparison to the night skies of Naboo, with its soft moonlight and mild air. It was all so far away.

 _Home._

She missed it dearly, but Padme knew it would be a long time before she would be able to return and visit her family. During the next Senate recess she would most likely join Obi-wan on Dantooine, and the thought of that was not disappointing to her. He was pleasant company to keep, and they had more in common than she had originally thought. She had come to admire him for his courage and perseverance.

Nights on Coruscant were alive in all the loudest ways, but she accepted the fact that it _was_ beautiful. In its own way, of course. The skyscrapers were well lit and formed the skyline she'd come to love in her past two years as a galactic senator.

"Are you not enjoying the evening?" came a voice behind her. Padme turned to see that is was none other than Darth Vader. His voice sounded far younger than she'd anticipated. It had a raspy quality to it, and there was something like the slightest touch of an accent she couldn't place. From up close, she was able to pick up on a few things she hadn't noticed before. She saw his lightsaber strapped to his waist, and took a good look at the weapon. They had always fascinated her, though she'd never actually held one before. But she had seen them in action, and the spectacle was something that would stay with her forever.

It took so much skill to use one, years upon years of intense training from early childhood. Though she had a hard time imagining the Sith ever having been a child, or anything less monstrous than what he stood before her as.

"I am enjoying it, that's why I'm outside in the fresh air. I'm not one for dancing, my lord," she said curtly.

"Then why are you armed?"

Padme paused. She _had_ been armed with a small blaster strapped to her thigh. But it was completely covered, and she had made certain that it would be impossible to notice, at least an hour spent in front of a mirror checking every angle to make sure it was totally obscured from view.

"Surely you know better than anyone else how many dangerous people there are in the galaxy, and arming myself grants me some much needed peace of mind. Is self defense a crime?"

"Or it could be used by a known political dissenter and rebel sympathizer to do serious harm."

"Such bold accusations, and yet where is your proof? And who exactly do you think I'm capable of harming?" she said, reaching beneath the slit of her dress and taking the blaster in her hand from its holster, "If this scares you, my lord, then you don't live up to your reputation."

"I am going to give you the chance to apologize for your disrespect."

"You may be able to read minds, Lord Vader, but I can do something better. I can read body language, facial expressions, tone of voice, you name it. Now, this would be easier if I could actually _see_ your face, but it doesn't matter. I know that you won't kill me, you're not _allowed_ to kill me. You wouldn't be able to contain the public outcry, it wouldn't be worth it," Padme said. She would have given anything to see the look on his face, because she was sure that he was sufficiently shocked.

"This is your last chance, Senator."

"Alright. I _suppose_ I-"

What happened next was so quick that it was almost a blur. One moment Padme was leaning against the rail and all was well, but the next she found herself struggling for air. She felt as if she was being choked by an invisible set of hands, and she grasped at her throat in an unsuccessful effort to stop it.

She could see other people watching out of the corner of her eye.

 _Aren't they going to do something?_ No, of course they wouldn't. They were far too afraid, and Padme found her judgement for the cowardice of her peers diminishing with every breath she couldn't take.

Black spots danced across her field of vision and she felt herself becoming lighter, slipping away.

 _This is it. I'm going to die here, but at least the information I have is going to die with me._

And then it was over and Padme collapsed onto the ground. She held her neck with her hand and took several short breaths before getting up. She then grabbed her gun from the floor and returned it to its holster in one swift motion. She struggled to get back up on her feet, but did it was too proud, and she refused to be humiliated any further.

"Apologize," he commanded.

Padme was awestruck. She couldn't believe that after what that man had done to her, _he_ was the one who was owed an apology. The other senators looked utterly engrossed by the scene, with their eyes wide from shock and their mouths glued shut out of fear. But perhaps they were smart to swallow their pride, and Padme decided to take a page from their book and live to see another day.

"I-I… I apologize." Her voice was weak and strained.

"For what?"

"My disrespect," she said with a scowl. And after that, he turned and left like it was nothing. Padme wanted to say something, anything. She didn't want for him to get away with this, for treating anyone this way, because she was certain that she wasn't the first. But he was already gone, and as soon as he left the people on the pavilion resumed their chatter, too afraid to even acknowledge what happened, let alone do something about it.

"Are you alright?"

Padme turned to see the familiar face of Rush Clovis looking back at her. Things had been tense between the two after they had broken things off, she had to admit, but it wasn't like him to ignore her when their paths happened to cross.

"Yes, I'm alright," she said.

"I don't understand why he would make a scene out in the open like that, it just makes no sense. What did you say?"

"Something foolish," Padme said, rubbing her neck, "I think it would be best if I went home. I feel awful."

"Let me drive you."

She paused. Ordinarily, Padme would have refused immediately. It was obvious that Rush still cared for her, and she didn't want to give him any ideas by accepting his offer. She would feel bad giving him the wrong impression, as there was no real animosity between them anymore. Though he had reacted inappropriately when she broke things off, Padme was apt to give friendship a chance. He seemed different, more mature than he had been a year ago.

"I trust that you are offering your help as a friend, and nothing more."

"Of course."

"Then if it isn't too much of an inconvenience, I don't see why not. Anything to get me out of here as quickly as possible," she said.

* * *

The ride was, in a word, uncomfortable. The speeder was relatively small, and the closeness between her and Rush wasn't making things any easier. Padme tried to take up as little space as she could, so as to avoid any accidental touching.

"You never told me what it was you said to get him so angry," he said.

"Why would you really like to know?"

"You know me, I'm curious," he said.

"I claimed that he wasn't allowed to kill me. That must have been the point of no return, or at least I think so." She didn't feel the need to elaborate any further, or that she owed him a more thorough explanation. Though she was reluctant to answer him at all, she decided to humor Rush since he _was_ driving her home.

"Padme," Rush started, "Your bravery is one of the things about you that make you great, but it isn't everything. You're too important to too many people for you to be reckless with your life."

"Are you calling me reckless? If I do not stand up to evil when I see it staring me in the face, then who will?" Her voice was raised, and she was beginning to show visible signs of anger.

"All I'm saying is that Vader will kill you without a second thought. That's what he _exists_ to do. What you said changed nothing," Rush said.

"You're wrong. I undermined his authority and he left me _alive._ "

"Barely!"

"But I lived! And in doing so I've made him look weak. I knew from the beginning that he wasn't allowed to kill me, and I was right."

"How could you put your life on a guess? There are people that care about you-"

"It was no guess. Your lack of faith in my judgement is very telling, and I do believe you are out of line," Padme said, "Let me out."

"Wait, I'm sorry-"

"I don't want to hear it. It's only a few more blocks, and I'd rather walk than be talked down to by the likes of you," she said, frustrated. As the speeder slowed down and came to a stop, she stepped out and began to make her way back to her apartment. Thankfully, it wasn't too chilly outside and the walk was pleasant. It also gave the senator the window she needed to evaluate the events of the party, and to determine what it all meant moving forward.

Padme knew she was a fool to have trusted Rush. She had no idea where he had gotten the gall to act like her babysitter, but it was a fresh reminder to keep her distance from this point on. Having him around would make everything more difficult.

The streets were just as busy at night as they were during the day, if not moreso. This worked to her advantage though, because it guaranteed an interrupted trip home. Padme had been slow to embrace her newfound celebrity status due to the unwanted attention, but learned to stomach it when she realized it could be a tool with which to do good.

Finally, she came to her building and walked in. She was greeted by the warmer inside air and quickly moved to the elevator, pressed the button, and waited for it to let out before leaving. She turned the knob and opened the door, the sense of comfort and relief that came from being in her own private space came over her in waves. She removed her shawl and threw it over the couch before falling back onto it herself.

Padme then grabbed her communicator from on top of the table and turned it on. She had missed several messages while at the party, most of them work related, but her eyes lit up when she saw a missed call from an unlisted number.

 _It's him,_ she thought before opening it to see the Jedi she'd been looking forward to hearing from all day. Hearing good news would lift her spirits, and good news was all she had received from Obi-wan for the past few weeks.

" _This is Obi-wan Kenobi reporting my progress from base AB-03. Construction is nearly finished, and should be complete by your arrival. 200 recruits have been sent to us over the past week, and their training is well underway. I hope you are well, and I look forward to seeing you very soon."_

Padme smiled after hearing the good news. Building the base on Dantooine had been her idea, and seeing it come to fruition after a year of planning filled her with a sense of accomplishment. It almost made her forget about the confrontation with Vader. _Almost._

But what did tonight's events mean for the mission? Was it safe to communicate with Obi-wan anymore? It was difficult for her to gage the level of scrutiny she was now under, if it had changed at all. Though warning the Jedi of Vader's sudden arrival was important, was it worth the risk of the message being intercepted, and the location of the base being revealed?

Padme decided to send her response despite the risk. It was important that Obi-wan know about Vader's current whereabouts. She'd done this hundreds of times: override Imperial censorship manually and then record a message that did not exceed one minute in length. All holos coming in and out of Coruscant were closely monitored, which made it difficult for her as well as the others to safely communicate with the rest of the Alliance.

Padme was no good with machines, she never had been. But she had learned how to do these things on her own out of necessity. So she opened the back of the communicator and fiddled with the wires for a few minutes until she had gotten it the way it needed to be.

" _Thank you, Master Kenobi. I wish I had good news to give to you in return, but something unexpected has happened. Darth Vader has come to Coruscant and proven himself to be just as violent and confrontational as rumors have told. I believe that he is here to intimidate the senate, to apprehend rebel sympathizers, or both. I worry that this message will be intercepted, so if I do not contact you within 24 hours reassuring you that your location is still secure, evacuate at once,"_ Padme said before sending it.

* * *

Obi-wan Kenobi first visited Dantooine during the clone wars as a Jedi Knight. It was one of the more remote planets of the Outer Rim, but without a doubt the most charming. It was home to an old Jedi enclave, and in the days of the Old Republic, many powerful Jedi called this place their home. The energy of this planet was one of the reasons he had taken so much of a liking to it.

He had been sent here about a year earlier following the founding of the Empire to supervise the construction of a rebel base, but Obi-wan knew that it was more for his own safety than anything else. The idea was that Dantooine was far enough removed from civilization that Sidious wouldn't think to look, thus giving him the time he needed to regroup before he faced the Emperor when the time was right. He loathed the fact that everyone thought him dead, but it was the strategic advantage that they desperately needed. So he did all the good he was able to do here, and spent his spare time training.

He switched on his communicator and saw that he had missed a message from Senator Amidala. He was surprised that she had gotten back to him so quickly, this could only mean that she had important or time sensitive information to relay.

" _Thank you, Master Kenobi. I wish I had good news to give to you in return, but something unexpected has happened. Darth Vader has come to Coruscant and proven himself to be just as violent and confrontational as rumor has it. I believe that he is here to intimidate the other senators as well as myself. I worry that this message will be intercepted, so if I do not contact you within 24 hours reassuring you that your location is still secure, evacuate at once."_

She looked and sounded frantic, and Obi-wan couldn't blame her. He supposed he would be as well if he had come face to face with the infamous Sith again. This truly was a surprise, and if anything this meant that the Emperor was so afraid of the Alliance that he deemed it necessary to parade Vader around in an effort to scare the Senate into submission.

He thought that this could prove a successful endeavor with regards to some senators, though most of the rebel sympathizers knew the risks and accepted them. But if Obi-wan knew anything, it was that Padme would not yield. Her mind and spirit were both too strong. He wasn't the only one who worried that her bravery would be her undoing.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Hello everyone, I'm back with another chapter. School and work have got me busy as hell, but I'll always find time to write fic even if I am a little late updating. This chapter was also somewhat hard to write, since it is a means of segwaying into the next plot point.

This chapter's song is Gustav Holst's Saturn. Listen here

* * *

 **Chapter 2:** Ramifications

" _If an injury has to be done to a man it should be so severe that his vengeance need not be feared."_

 _ **Niccolo Machiavelli, The Prince**_

* * *

Padme sat hunched over at her desk the next morning reading through papers with tired eyes. She was supposed to be doing the tedious job that was revising that particular bill after identifying its problem areas, but it was difficult for her to concentrate for more than a few minutes at a time. She found herself just staring at the words on the page without actually reading them, let alone begin to comprehend any of it.

Her neck was sore, and there was visible bruising there, so she took time to select a dress with the highest neckline possible that morning, even dabbing concealer on the problem area as well. It was not only an eyesore, but a visual manifestation of her weakness in facing him. She was certain that nobody would have said anything, but the thought of people noticing bothered her. It was a matter of pride, and she was sure that Vader knew that. Surely that was why he had done it, to make her look fragile and foolish in front of her colleagues. But she had promised herself never to allow it to happen again.

She had been so distressed that she had accepted a ride home from _Rush._ That was certainly a mistake, as his head was most likely already filled with the ridiculous thought of getting back together. She gave that man an inch, and now he was sure to try and take a mile.

Besides the fact that she was slightly hungover, the events of last night were still running through her mind, and she felt like an idiot for allowing any of it to happen. As much as she hated to admit it, Rush was right when he said that standing up to Vader solved nothing. If anything, the consequences of confronting the Sith would only harm her in the long run. Was she under even more suspicion after the events of last night? Was she being watched right now? In this exact moment? What would become of her when she inevitably slipped up? Padme found herself unable to think or function outside of this incessant worrying.

 _And now I've not only put myself in danger, but Master Kenobi as well as everyone else on the base._

She heard a gentle knock on the door.

"Come in," she said. Who could it be? She didn't remember scheduling any meetings this early in the morning, and frankly, she wasn't sure if she could handle one in her current state.

The door opened, and Padme lifted her head to see that it was Bail. He didn't look happy, but he also didn't look especially angry or upset. He just _was,_ and it was unnerving. But it was still a relief to see her friend rather than another senator, as she _had_ burned many bridges during her term.

"Good morning, Bail," she said with a slight smile.

"Good morning. I wanted to speak to you about what happened last night, assuming you're not too busy at the moment," he said, taking a seat in front of her desk.

"I can always make time for you. Listen, I understand that you must be angry with me but I can explain-"

"I'm not the one who is angry, Mon is. I'm more worried than anything else. It's over, and there's nothing we can do now to change that, but I need you to tell me what happened so we can protect both you as well as... _everyone else involved_."

The phrase _everyone else involved_ had become code for the Alliance, as it was impossible to know for sure whether or not they were being watched. Rumors of the entirety of the senate building being under constant imperial surveillance were all but confirmed.

Padme smiled. It was exactly what she needed to hear, as always. It was so much like him to approach a situation as drastic as this with such a level head, and she had come to appreciate this side of her friend, even tried to mimic it. Mon had a right to be angry, but it was a relief to be met with initial support from Bail rather than an argument right away.

"I didn't think much of it at the time. I was absolutely miserable last night, so, consequently I had too much to drink. It was a mistake, I know. Then I went out on the pavilion to enjoy the fresh air, and then _he_ followed me there."

"That means he is most likely under orders to keep an eye on you," Bail said.

"I'm sure you're right. Then he tried to start a conversation, but it was very obvious that his intentions were not friendly. He noticed the blaster I keep under my dress, and started questioning me about it," she said.

"And what did you tell him?"

"That I keep it for self-defense reasons, of course, and that's not a complete lie, but I still don't think he believed me. He even went so far as to imply that I had been carrying it in order to carry out some type of... assassination attempt. Could you imagine? At that point, I was offended and I began to act irresponsibly. I told him that if a blaster of such small size scared him, that he didn't live up to his reputation. And then I said something very foolish."

"Which was?"

"It felt to me like he was threatening to kill me, so I said what I knew to be true, that he wasn't allowed to harm me, at least not fatally. I told him that the Emperor wouldn't allow me to be killed because the public outcry would be too much to handle," Padme said, "And that's when he strangled me. No one came to my aid, they all just… watched. I really thought that was it, that I was going to die right then and there." Her voice began to shake, as did her hands, remembering the raw fear she had felt.

"You're right, he must not be allowed to kill you, otherwise you wouldn't be alive right now," Bail said, his brows furrowed in contemplation.

"I know. After that he released me and demanded that I apologize. I did as he told me, and he left me alone."

"That was the smartest decision you made all night. You must _never_ do anything like this again, do you hear me? This was an insanely risky move."

"I understand, and I promise I will avoid Vader to the best of my abilities from now on. He can't be staying here on Coruscant for that long, what do you think?"

"I don't know what to expect from the Emperor anymore. This could mean one of two things. Either he is here to intimidate us and conduct surveillance, or he is here because the Emperor realizes he is growing old and feels the need to groom his heir now."

"Or a combination of the two," she said, visibly uneasy.

"Please, Padme, listen to some advice from a friend. The next senate recess is in three weeks. Think about it. In two weeks you're leaving Coruscant, which I know you have been looking forward to. Stay quiet, keep to yourself, and don't rock the boat," he said with a smile.

"As much as I hate to admit it, you're right - as always. You can tell Mon that I am deeply sorry for the danger that I put us in, and that I will absolutely be more careful in the future."

"Let her be angry for a day or two, and then she'll move past it. Mon cares for you deeply. Her frustration stems from her concern for your safety," Bail said.

"Very well. I hate to keep you from your work, and unfortunately I have yet to read through the current draft of the proposed changes to the immigration codes. I'll meet up with you later to discuss them, I assume?" Padme said, "And then we can talk about the vote in a few days about Shu-torun. I won't have any more bloodshed."

"We cannot put the people of Shu-torun in any more danger, especially after the uprising resulted in such a profound loss of life. The Emperor is, no doubt, planning on making an example of them, so I doubt there is much you can do. But I know that won't stop you from trying. I'm free to meet anytime this afternoon. Please remember what we talked about," he said before turning and leaving her alone in the spacious room. Looking at it now, she realized for the first time how empty the room looked as it stretched before her.

But it was an open sort of empty, with windows that covered the entire back wall and let the sunlight dominate the room. On the other side of the glass, speeders cut through the sky like bees in the summer air, each with a life and story of its own.

Padme turned her head to the stacks of papers that cluttered her desk and began to sort through them. Her opposition sought to pass stricter immigration regulations on Coruscant, and to make the path to citizenship even more arduous than it already was, but with any luck their so called reforms wouldn't even make it to the senate floor. Not if there was anything she could do to prevent it. She skimmed the bill anyway, making notes on her data pad of changes that would need to be made, which was beginning to look like an awfully long list.

She pondered the situation on Shu-torun as well. It was complete and utter anarchy after the rebel coup, which she regretted to have played a part in orchestrating, as it had not gone as smoothly as anticipated. Their forces had succeeded in occupying the planet's capital city, but only after a significant loss of life. If military action on the Empire's part was to be approved, it would all have been for nothing, which is why Padme knew she needed to use whatever power and influence she still possessed to stop it. Luckily, the vote wasn't for another two days, which gave the young woman time to carefully consider her approach.

She planned on addressing the senate before the vote, but Padme still hadn't the slightest idea of what the _right_ thing to say was. She could stand in front of them and give them the facts, and explain the basic ethical principles in question, but she knew it wouldn't be effective, at least not effective enough to garner the support she needed. No, the only morally upstanding senators still left weren't the votes that had to be swayed, and they were certainly not enough to constitute a majority.

Most of the senators cared about two things: money and power, and even those two things were interrelated to the point where it was impossible to divorce one from the other. But what were Shu-torun's main exports again?

 _Ore._

That was something Padme knew she could work with. Ore was in high demand, as it wasn't in abundant supply. She had known the Empire to seize and repossess property for the sake of ore mining, and Shu-torun was one of the few planets that had it in concentrated amounts. It wouldn't be easy, but at least now the proper course of action was clear.

* * *

Obi-wan fell into an uncharacteristically debilitating panic after sleeping on the news that Senator Amidala had given him. The true implications of what they could now be facing had finally sunk in, and he was determined to take action before it was too late.

He woke early in the morning as he had always done for as long as the young Jedi master could remember, and began the day with meditation. It gave him the chance to think, and to see clearly what challenges lay before him. Master Qui-Gon had emphasized the importance of this practice from the time Obi-wan was very young. The habit formed early, and he had never fallen out of it. With the collapse of the Jedi Order, it was now even more important to him to preserve its traditions and to live its code without fail. If it was to be rebuilt in the future, and if he was to be alive to have a hand in its reconstruction, he could not allow himself to stray from his roots.

Once his mind was clear, Obi-wan set out to do what he could to secure the base should his call to Senator Amidala have been tracked to this location. He moved to the door and pressed the button, causing it to slide open. Outside of the room, he found the recruit that had been tasked with guard duty.

"What's your name, soldier?" Obi-wan said.

"Auth, Grat Auth, sir," came the reply. He looked young, inexperienced, eager to impress his superiors. Obi-wan didn't need to use the Force to see it either, it was written plainly on his face.

"I want you to go to the hangar, and give my orders to prepare the ships for takeoff."

"Which ship, sir?"

"All of them, and I want you to load them with all the guns and ammunition we have in storage."

* * *

The day had not gone as expected, but Padme had come to expect the unexpected from her colleagues. Lies and backstabbing had become the norm, but as soon as she found out that the vote to approve military action on Shu-torun had been moved, she couldn't help but be caught off guard.

Padme hated addressing the senate, and she knew she would never be comfortable doing it. She was perpetually singled out and opposed, though she supposed that was the price of presenting herself with integrity and representing the true interests of her constituents.

After the initial shock, she felt the dread sitting in the pit of her stomach more strongly than usual. Padme had an hour to prepare, so she rushed to find Bail in hopes of being able to postpone the vote. If anyone knew what to do, it was him. In retrospect, her time would have been better spent _actually preparing._

She knocked on the door, but there was no answer, so she typed in the entry code and it slid open in front of her.

"Who is responsible for this? Who moved the vote?" Padme said frantically, still hoping that her friend had been inside. But she had spoken too soon, only to find the office empty. Bail must have left for some last minute meeting, or perhaps he was socializing outside of the senate chamber. Mon was sure to be with him, as wherever one member of the trio was going, the others were sure to be found close by.

She walked inside and the door closed behind her. He may still return before the vote, and this place gave her a secure, familiar feeling. So she took a seat on the couch and unfolded the piece of paper that she held so tightly in her hand on the walk over. Although writing by hand was practically obsolete, there was comfort in doing it. She decided to wait here, if only for a little while, just in case he returned.

"Fellow senators, I beg you to consider the moral and financial ramifications of aggravating the conflict on Shu-torun. Why should we turn to violence, when diplomatic alternatives exist," Padme rehearsed.

She knew what she needed to do: project her voice, speak from the diaphragm, command respect. This was the path to success, pieced together from what she had seen some of the more experienced senators do to sway votes at the last possible moment.

 _Try it again, but get it right this time._

Padme stood up this time, and set the paper down onto the table, as if this was the real thing.

"Fellow senators, I _beg_ you to consider the moral and financial ramifications of aggravating the conflict on Shu-torun-"

She was interrupted by the hiss of the door opening.

"Bail, I'm glad to see you I-," she said, without looking up.

But when she raised her head, the smile fell from her face in a second. It was not her friend, but Vader, probably with the intent of searching the office for anything suspicious. That much she could gather by the fact that he was followed by two troopers.

"Pardon me, but the last time I checked this was a _private_ office," she said.

He motioned for the troopers to wait outside, and the door closed behind them. Padme stood and walked in Vader's direction, as if to prevent him from going any further.

"Step aside, I am here to search this room."

"Do you have a warrant?" she said curtly.

"I have the Emperor's orders."

Padme looked up at him, instinctively trying to make eye contact before she remembered that he had no eyes, at least that she could see. She let her gaze linger, though, in hopes of being able to see a hint of skin, or anything by which to identify him. Vader seemed visibly uncomfortable with this, and after a few seconds he turned and walked past her.

"Don't walk any closer to that desk. This is an illegal search. You have no right-" she said.

"Sit down, Senator," he said.

She wanted to protest, to fight back, but she remembered what Bail had told her that morning and did as he commanded. She watched him and said nothing.

"You will watch me as I look through everything in this room. Every file on Senator Organa's data pad, every holo, every slip of paper. You will learn not to stand in my way ever again," Vader said.

"Where is he? Where have you taken him?" she said softly.

"Nowhere yet, but I assure you it will be taken care of before I leave for Shu-torun."

"So moving the vote was your doing, I assume?" she said, her voice full of anger. Padme couldn't believe she was in the same room as the man, murderer of millions, scourge of the galaxy, and there wasn't a thing she could do about it. And now he had gone and moved the vote to approve military intervention on Shu-torun, which would result in an even greater loss of life than the uprising there had caused.

"No."

"But you are the reason that my motion to postpone it was rejected immediately?"

"Yes."

"I wouldn't count on the senate voting in favor of the bill, at least not if I have anything to do with it."

"You are still carrying that blaster under your dress," he said.

"Yes, I am. It belongs to me, so I will continue to carry it. There have been several instances when it has saved my life."

"And what are you involved with that necessitates such precautions?"

Padme didn't answer, instead electing to study her speech in silence. She wouldn't let his presence distract her, though it was important that she keep an eye on Vader and take mental notes of what he was looking through, in case he did find anything. She felt so utterly useless. Standing up for Bail would have been her preferred course of action, but she knew that it wouldn't stop Vader, or any of this for that matter.

She watched him intently, analyzing his movements for anything that would indicate his species, but came up empty. He was careful, having the precision of a droid, but his voice sounded far too natural for him to not be a living being. From what Padme could gather, he seemed humanoid in the way that he carried himself, but this was all just conjecture.

His clothing was eerily similar to that of a Jedi, but he wore only black rather than the brown and white of the old Jedi Order. How ironic that the very man who carried out order 66 with enthusiasm reminded her of a Jedi.

He was finished looking through and grouping the papers on his desk, Vader picked up his com and began flipping through old messages. Her stomach began to churn as her mind was filled with memories of potentially incriminating things she had sent him, even just that particular week. Padme worried, but ultimately had faith that Bail cleaned out his comm every so often in anticipation for something like this. Most of the messages were work related, and from other senators.

"What crime is Senator Organa suspected of?" she asked, deciding to test the waters with Vader.

"You know very well what he is doing."

Of course she knew, but his reply was still startling. Perhaps it was his tone of voice, as it did sound an awful lot like a threat. It was enough to keep her quiet for the time being. Padme had expected Vader to be aware of her involvement, or at the very least to suspect it, but hearing proof of that fact was alarming to say the least. She found herself dreadfully unsure of how to handle the situation as delicately as possible.

"No more recorded calls _,_ " came the automated voice of the communicator, at the sound of which she let out a quiet sigh of relief.

But Vader wasn't finished yet. She could hear him picking through the circuit board, though she wasn't entirely sure what he was doing. Their methods of bypassing imperial censors were effective enough to have gotten them this far without being caught, which spoke to the magnitude of their skill.

The communicator began to glitch out at the final missed call, but Padme heard the faintest trace of a familiar voice. All the color drained from her face, and in an instant she was as white as a sheet.

 _Master Kenobi._

His head snapped back. It seemed as if her sudden change in expression had registered with him sooner than it had with her. Padme responded by looking away, not wanting him to see her surprised reaction.

"Are you quite finished? As I'm sure you know, I am, in fact, very busy," she said.

"No. Consider yourself detained until this search is complete."

" _Detained_?" Padme said, standing up to face him, "On what grounds? Where is your arrest warrant? There are _rules_ to be followed in criminal cases, _laws_ that have been enacted for the express purpose of protection from corrupt law enforcement-"

"Corruption is a thing of the past, Senator."

"With respect, my Lord, that is a very special type of corruption, that which cannot admit its true reality," Padme said.

He didn't respond, just continued to study and dissect the circuits of the communicator. There looked to be a method to what Vader was doing, but it was lost on her. She concluded that he was skilled with machinery, exceptionally so. The silence continued for what felt like an eternity, but was actually closer to a half hour. Padme continued to study him, but found that she was making little to no headway.

"I have obligations. There is a vote in _ten minutes_ and I cannot miss it," she said, becoming frustrated.

"Very well." He walked to the door, opened it, and gestured for the troopers to come inside. "Escort the senator to her _obligation_."

Padme wanted _so badly_ to protest, but she realized that it would be to no avail. Vader was clearly doing this to humiliate her, so the best thing she could do was to not let it. She nodded before leaving the room flanked by the two clones.

She wondered if he would find anything in the office, but ultimately she was doubtful. Vader would surely be frustrated that Bail would elude him again, and the thought of it brought a smile to her face. Palpatine and his Imperial dogs would have to try a bit harder if they planned on catching any more of the rebel senators.

No, Padme was certain that it would never happen again. She wouldn't _allow_ it to happen again. The Alliance was growing, learning from past mistakes, and becoming a true force to be reckoned with.

She could feel a gun pressed into her back as she walked down the hallway.

"Is that _really_ necessary?" Padme asked.

"We are just following orders, senator," the trooper on the left said.

"What are your names?"

"I am MT-038 and my partner is DA-334."

Padme remembered the creation of the clones like it was yesterday. She had been opposed to it, of course, as they were essentially created to be slaves to the Republic. The only way a clone could leave the army was in a bodybag. But nobody had listened. This was the cost of winning the war, they claimed. It was for the greater good, they said.

They shouted at her, calling her a traitor. Padme thought it humorous that little had changed in that regard. Her problems never changed in nature, only grew in severity.

She decided not to prod the troopers any further, even though she was desperate for some type of light conversation to calm her nerves. Her encounter with Vader had made her even more anxious than she had already been, and it hit her that she was on her way to address the senate, and that lives were on the line.

 _Failure is no longer an option._

They had reached the outside of the senate chamber, but everyone had already gone inside. Padme found her way to her pod, and the two clones, content to have completed their mission, left without a word. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and focused on taking slow, deep breaths.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** I thought I could write without the accent on Padmé's name because I'm lazy. I couldn't, it got too annoying to look at. I'll fix that in the other chapters as well.

This chapter's song is Masquerade Waltz by Aram Khachaturian. Listen here:  watch?v=YCoLUMURunQ

* * *

 **Chapter 3:** Heights

" _Let me not die ingloriously and without a struggle, but let me first do some great thing that shall be told among men hereafter."_

 _ **Homer, The Iliad**_

* * *

Padmé was absentmindedly fiddling with the sleeve of her dress as she entered her pod. It was a nervous habit that she had developed when she was younger, perhaps to cope with the pressures of being Queen, and it was one that she had never been able to drop. It was absolutely childish, and the senator hated things that drew attention to the fact that she was still so young in comparison to her colleagues. Everything Padme did was to draw attention away from the fact that she was only 24. She wore her hair up. She bought clothes that looked more mature. She tried to deepen her voice as she spoke.

But did it make a difference? She knew that many saw her as silly and idealistic, and that they would continue to think that way regardless of her age. But still, it was _something_.

Padmé was sure that the senate chamber was an incredible room upon first sight, but she had occupied it hundreds of times, and struggled to remember her own first time seeing it. It wasn't long ago, but it felt like an eternity. The place had become something unremarkable in her mind. In the late days of the Republic, this room held a great deal of power. Looking back on them, Padmé knew that it had flowed from Palpatine for years, even if it was only blatantly obvious now.

"We are gathered here today in this emergency session to vote regarding the issue of whether or not the Empire should authorize military action to put down the rebellion on Shu-torun," Palpatine said, his voice echoing slightly, reverberating through the room.

"The floor is open to anyone who feels moved to speak," Palpatine said.

"I would like to speak," Padmé said.

"You have five minutes."

"Fellow senators, I beg you to consider the moral and financial ramifications of aggravating the conflict on Shu-torun. Why should we turn to violence, when diplomatic alternatives exist? The lucrative ore-mining industry would undoubtedly suffer, and have a meaningful impact on the galactic economy. Not to mention the humanitarian issue of using military force. The vast majority of Shu-torun's population is civilian, and they had nothing to do with the conspiracy. To kill innocents is not only immoral, but doing so would make a martyr out of the planet, possibly igniting the revolutionary spirit even further. Military action is a temporary solution, diplomacy is a permanent one." Padmé said.

Her speech was received just as she anticipated it would be: with thunderous booing and the occasional accusations of treason on her part. Padmé ignored them, her face remaining blank and unaffected by their words.

"I agree with Senator Amidala," Bail said, "Violence does not address the root of the problem."

Padmé smiled. It was a relief to have someone on her side, and after he voiced his support, the booing lessened considerably. But that wasn't what was important. What was important was that she was no longer standing alone.

"And who do you propose be sent to perform these duties?" Palpatine asked. From his tone, Padmé gathered that he was willing to entertain the idea, though she could not for the life of her understand why. Was he being serious, or was he just toying with her? Or was this all a part of his plan?

"If it should please you, your Majesty, I volunteer my services. I am well versed and experienced in these matters. The Shu-torun are a people governed by tradition and strict protocol, which I learned much about during my time as Queen," Padmé said.

"Senator Amidala has made an excellent point. There is no reason to waste men and bullets over a conflict that can be solved just as well, if not better, without them. Though if you are wrong, and your negotiations do not go well, military action would be necessary," Palpatine said, "Which is why, in addition to your request, I move that Lord Vader be sent as well, just in case negotiations do not go well. I shall not run the risk of any harm coming to you."

"I understand, your Majesty, I am most grateful for your concern," she said calmly, though her insides burned with rage. She felt foolish for thinking that this victory would come with no strings attached. They rarely did, but this was so much more than the small sacrifices she was willing to make. To send the Imperial Navy's poster boy on a peaceful, diplomatic mission? It could hinder the mission, not to mention the fact that it was an outright insult to everything Padmé was trying to do, everything she stood for.

"Then Senator Amidala's plan has my blessing. If no one else should like to speak, then we shall begin the vote at once."

No one raised their voice in opposition, and the vote went quickly. It was unanimously in support of Padmé's diplomatic mission, with the Emperor's seal of approval, of course. There was nothing democratic about the Imperial Senate, it was more of a formality than anything else to hold a vote over anything, especially a military matter. Anyone with half a brain knew that Palpatine's word was the only law here. If a particular bill had his support, everyone else's was sure to follow.

* * *

The throne room was a familiar, yet unpleasant place for Vader. It was longer than it was wide. It was poorly lit. It was needlessly ornate. When his master called him here, it was to address some grievance he had against his apprentice, and with that came punishment. His harsh treatment of the senator had something to do with this, no doubt.

Vader entered the room, strode down the carpeted path, and knelt before the Emperor. The simple act of kneeling before _anyone_ made his blood boil. _He_ should be the one sitting on that throne.

"What is thy bidding, Master?" he said, lowering his head.

"Tell me of your progress. What have you learned about Senator Amidala and her whereabouts?"

"There is no doubt in my mind that she is actively involved in the rebellion, and that she is one of their most important leaders."

"Anyone in this building could have told me that," Palpatine said, pausing, "I will ask again. What have you learned about Senator Amidala and her whereabouts?"

"I have no conclusive evidence with which to incriminate her, Master," Vader said.

The old man was getting angry, that much he could see. Over the years, Vader had learned the patterns of his master's mannerisms and the content of his temperament, the method of his madness, if you will. He was a patient man who had, very ironically, only come to expect swift results from his apprentice.

"Have you not see into her mind?" the Emperor said.

"Her mind is far too strong, Master. If I were to force my way in, it could... incapacitate her mentally. I shall do so if it is your will, but your instructions were to-"

"I know perfectly well what my instructions were, and they still stand. Do no permanent harm to the senator. She is far too important. We will use her to eliminate the Alliance, but only when the time is right."

"Yes, Master."

"Continue to monitor her closely. Perhaps close physical proximity would aid in the infiltration of her mind?"

"I doubt that I will be able to. Her mind is as strong as that of a force user, Master. It puzzles me."

"Do not worry, my apprentice, her time will come. The senator is not like most politicians, she is far worse. Study her. Learn her ways, but do not fall for her trickery. This is how you will win."

"Yes, Master."

"You watched the emergency session as I asked, correct?"

"Yes, Master."

"I sense something is bothering you. You may speak freely," Palpatine said.

"Yes, I do not understand. Why did you grant the Senator her request? Would it not be easier and quicker to send only me, so that I may exterminate the rebels instead?" Vader said.

"If she is indeed conspiring with the rebels of Shu-torun, then we have been given the opportunity to apprehend not only them, but the Senator as well. This is why I am sending you to go with her."

"Shall I kill her then, Master?"

"Your impatience is your weakness, Lord Vader. When I want her killed, you will know. Now go, prepare for your departure."

Vader rose from the ground and turned to leave.

* * *

Padmé left the senate chamber with enthusiasm coloring her face and powering her steps. She had accomplished what she had set out to do, what she thought was _impossible._ She was expected to seem excited, even though she knew that this mission was nothing but a farce. Something about her victory felt off, even before Palpatine had declared that Vader was to accompany her. It was never hers to begin with. The Emperor surely had some ulterior motive behind sending her to Shu-torun, and she knew it from the moment he said that _monster_ would go there as well.

Her mind raced with the possibilities. Would Vader kill her before they reached Shu-torun and lead the military campaign she assumed that he intended on leading from the beginning? Or would he wait until they reached the planet and kill her quietly, blaming the rebels, and thus justifying the Empire's involvement in a potential civil war? The second option seemed far more likely, as it sounded like one of Palpatine's schemes. The enthusiasm that had possessed her originally was now gone.

"Padmé!"

Padmé turned to see Bail and Mon, who had caught up and now walked beside her.

"Yes? What is it?" she said.

"This mission is not a good idea. This whole enterprise reeks of the Emperor's treachery," Mon said.

"I agree. He must see it as an easy way to dispose of you," Bail said.

"That may be so, but if I do nothing, then Vader will slaughter every man, woman, and child on Shu-torun. I cannot allow that to happen."

"He could be planning to do that anyway, after he _kills_ you," Bail said.

"I don't care. I have to try, and neither of you can stop me. Have a little _faith._ I certainly can't best him in a fight, but I may be able to outsmart him."

"Do you understand what is at stake here? If you are captured, not only have we lost an important leader and friend in you, but Lord Vader is well known for his interrogation techniques. To even risk it would be-" Mon began.

"I would never tell him _anything_. I would sooner die," Padmé snapped.

"You have no idea what you're up against. It doesn't matter. We cannot afford to lose you now," Mon said.

"She is right. This is suicide," Bail said.

"Enough! Darth Vader may be a Sith Lord, but he is still a man, and I have never met a man that I haven't been able to bend to my will," Padmé said, "The way I see it, he is no different."

With that said, Padmé picked up her pace and left her friends behind without another word. The anger that she felt after immediately leaving the senate chamber was now doubled by Mon and Bail's lack of faith in her abilities. It was like they didn't even _care_ about their allies on Shu-torun anymore. They were content to watch them die by Vader's hand if it meant that she would live to see another day. It seemed absurd to her. Did they not fight for freedom? Did they not pledge to put the good of the galaxy over the survival of any individual?

She eventually reached her office, and entered to find it just as she had left it, thankfully. The thought of her space being searched just as Bail's was sent a chill down her spine. It was a violation of privacy, something that Padmé simply could not tolerate. Even if she didn't have anything to hide, it would still bother her. Hell, it would bother anyone.

She sat at her desk and resumed her work on the immigration bill. It was just as boring as she remembered it, but the regularity was a welcome change of speed after being so shaken up during the vote. Padmé was the sort of person who took comfort in routine and order, so she worked for the next few hours in silence, save for the sound of typing.

The odds of that particular bill dying either before it reached the floor, or in committee were relatively high. And even if it managed to survive that long, Padmé knew that it would be near impossible to enforce. And even though it had the Emperor's backing, he wouldn't be willing to spare the troops to prevent migrants from entering Coruscant. It was simply too large a planet.

* * *

Vader had not taken long preparing for the trip. Had it not been for the senator, he would have been able to leave directly following the vote. But his master had insisted upon honoring her proposal, so he begrudgingly accepted the fact that he would have to wait.

And wait.

And wait.

He ached to get off this planet. Even though he had only been there for a short while, the Sith was not used to staying in one place permanently, instead coming to enjoy the moving around that his work demanded. He preferred flying. It was so much _freer,_ unlike the restrictions that came with living on Coruscant.

 _Don't kill the senator! Don't engage anyone on Shu-torun unless provoked! Speak only when spoken to!_

His master's words echoed through Vader's mind, filling him with agitation. He didn't belong on Coruscant, that much was clear. Politics were loathsome to him, politicians even more so. This was his master's game, not his, but it wouldn't be this way forever. Soon there would be no Imperial Senate at all, and though he knew that his master was too much of a coward to eliminate it and all of its members, Vader would. In time.

Time was something that he had a lot of while he was waiting in the ship for the senator. What was her angle? Vader had done his research and read through every file that the Empire had on the woman, and he could tell that she was no fool, so surely she knew that this was all part of an elaborate setup. So why would she walk herself directly into a trap?

He knew why. Senator Amidala was not like most politicians in that she actually cared for the people she represented. That explained why she was so difficult to get rid of, as she couldn't be bribed or bought out, and by the Force had people tried. She refused to crack.

There would be no place for her kind in his new Empire. Senator Amidala's brand of resistance was too strong to be allowed to go unchecked for long. Vader knew this. The Emperor, being the foolish old man that he was, apparently, did not. He had become complacent.

First he deluded himself into thinking he could contain his apprentice, and now the senator? He truly was losing his edge.

* * *

Padmé rushed to pack her things with the help of her handmaiden, Dormé. They had done this many times together over the years, so they had it down to a science. Padmé would sort through her closet and choose the articles of clothing that she thought would be most appropriate for whatever function she had to go to, toss them over to her handmaiden, and let her arrange them in her suitcase.

"You never mentioned where you were going, my lady," Dormé said. She seemed curious, and Padmé couldn't blame her, as the other woman had become something of a confidant in the years that they had known each other. It was difficult for the senator to trust others, but Dormé had sworn an oath of loyalty to her when she assumed the throne. She reminded her of home, of the better and simpler times that seemed so far behind her.

"A diplomatic mission to Shu-torun. There was a coup led by rebels, and it is my job to resolve this conflict peacefully and restore order," Padmé said.

"I heard about that in the news. Is it true that the entire ruling family has been killed?"

Padmé paused. "No. Many have died, but not all of them. The remaining members of the line are in hiding."

"Do you require my presence? This mission is sure to be dangerous-"

"No. This is something I must do alone," Padmé said. The truth of the matter was that she didn't think it smart to reveal her handmaiden to Vader, as she may need to rely on this secret in the future. She would rather save this trick for another, more desperate time. Not to mention that the risk of her being killed was too great if she brought her along, and Padmé didn't think she could handle losing Dormé, especially not now. She meant far too much to her.

"Will you finish packing for me? I need to make a call," Padmé said before leaving the room. The other woman nodded.

She found her communicator resting on the side table of her living room, just where she had left it last night. She picked it up and dialed for Obi-wan.

"Master Kenobi? Are you there?" Padmé said, laying the communicator down onto the table and taking a seat on the couch.

"Yes, Senator. I have made preparations to evacuate the base as you asked."

"Thankfully, that will no longer be necessary. I have no reason to believe that my calls are being traced."

"This is good news. Our progress here will be able to continue as planned." Obi-wan said.

"I have other news. I have been called to act as an ambassador to Shu-torun in the wake of the coup. I will do the best I can to protect our allies there, but there have been... complications once again. Vader will be there as well."

Obi-wan stroked his beard, as he was prone to doing while he was thinking. She had known him for many years, ever since the beginning of her reign as Queen. Even throughout the Clone Wars he was a constant presence, and he had proven himself to be a good and loyal friend. Consequently, she had come to memorize his quirks and mannerisms over the years.

"I don't like this. I fear for your safety, but keeping Vader distracted with this mission could prove beneficial to us." he said.

"Have you spoken with our allies on Shu-torun?"

"Yes. They have requested aid," he said.

Of course they did. Padmé couldn't blame them, as from what she had heard, the situation there had gotten very ugly very quickly. Even though the rebels had the upper hand in the conflict, there were still heavy casualties on both sides. But there was nothing she could do for them now, not after the Emperor decided that keeping the planet was a priority. Even with reinforcements, the imperial army would no doubt overwhelm and defeat them quickly. They were outmanned, plain and simple.

"We can't do that," Padmé said.

"No, we can't, but there is another solution. The crown has long been sympathetic to our cause, and the King has come to me personally to express their interest in coordinating a second attack," he said, "Which, as you can probably imagine, would be much more effective with their military at our disposal."

"This is a pleasing development. So I assume you would like me to touch base with him and make sure things run smoothly," Padmé said.

"Yes. Be my eyes and ears while we devise a strategy from the base, and if it is safe to contact you, we need your assistance to plan out the attack as well."

"I doubt that it will be, but we shall see. But what should I do about Vader? He will get in the way, no doubt."

"Don't spend any more time with him than you have to, but keep an eye on him still. I doubt he would reveal anything meaningful or important to you, but be on the lookout anyway," Obi-wan said, "Do not underestimate him, but at the same time, I am confident that you will be able to handle him."

"My thoughts exactly. He is nothing but a brute, and I am more than capable of dealing with him. I must go now, the best of luck to you, Master Kenobi."

"In my experience, there is no such thing as luck. May the force be with you, Senator."

* * *

Padmé stepped out of her speeder with Dormé, who was carrying her luggage, following closely behind. She had been able to lighten her load to two suitcases, which was nearly a new record by the senator's standards, being a person who changed clothes frequently throughout the day. It was cloudy outside, and the air was thick with the prospect of rain. Then again, it was difficult to differentiate the smoke that was a byproduct of city life from clouds.

They had reached the landing bay, where she was to board the ship that would take them to the negotiations. They ascended the ramp and onto the craft.

"That will be all for now, you may go," Padmé said with a slight smile, "Take a vacation while I am gone. Return to Naboo and see your family."

Dormé returned her smile, nodded, set the luggage down, and left for the speeder. She watched her handmaiden go, and wished she was able to come along. Padmé knew that Dormé had taken an oath, that she had accepted the chances of her life being in danger, but she couldn't bring herself to endanger her friend for her sake. Not again.

Padmé picked up her suitcases and fully entered the ship. The first thing that she noticed was that it was a military craft, designed to hold troops and weapons. That much was clear to her even though it's walls had been stripped bare of blasters and ammunition, as she was familiar with that sort of thing. Though she didn't do so much physical fighting anymore, but she remembered her involvement during the tail end of the Clone Wars well, and things often did escalate to violence.

She moved to the back of the ship and found the cabin that she assumed to be hers, and opened the door. Padmé set her things down on the bed and surveyed the room. It was small, but every square inch of it was used as efficiently as possible. There wasn't much to see, so she resolved to find the pilot and tell them that she was ready to take off. She left the room and closed the door behind her.

"You're late," Vader said. Every time she interacted with him, he seemed to come out of thin air.

"My apologies, I had work that could not be left unfinished. The emergency session caught me by surprise" Padmé said cooly. Her stare was blank.

He said nothing in response. Typical.

"Where is the pilot? We should take off immediately to make up for lost time," she said.

"I'm the pilot," he said.

Of course he was the kriffing pilot. This situation was beginning to look shadier and shadier as time went on. No one else on board meant no witnesses, and if he truly did intend on killing her… well… there wouldn't be anything Padmé could do. There wouldn't be anyone to help her. She stood alone.

"You must be very talented," Padmé said, gritting her teeth through her smile.

"Flattery will get you nowhere with me, Senator."

"Oh? And where will honesty take me? You made yourself abundantly clear last night that you do not wish to hear the truth," she said.

No response. He just sat down at the cockpit and began pressing buttons.

"There is a saying where I'm from, something I was taught when I was elected Queen. There is no other way to guard yourself against flattery than by making men understand that telling you the truth will not offend you," she said.

She watched him work with the controls, and she thought that she had never seen someone so deep in their element. Vader didn't respond, but Padmé concluded that it had more to do with his mind being elsewhere than it had to do with what she said. Was he even paying attention?

The ship rose from the ground and into the air, cutting through the atmosphere and into space. Padmé held onto the back of the co-pilot's chair as they picked up speed.

This was going to be a long trip, that much was certain.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Thanks to those of you who favorited, followed, or reviewed! I would appreciate more though, since oftentimes it feels like I'm writing this story and no one is reading it. That I am shouting directly into the void lol

This chapter isn't meant to advance the plot so much as to be introspective for all of our characters since it does take time for them to travel, and that's why it's shorter. Shit will go down in the next chapter. What can I say? Palpatine's got plans!

This chapter's song is: Venus by Gustav Holst (aka the calm before the storm). Listen here.

" _Let me rage before I die."_

 _ **Virgil, The Aeneid**_

 **Chapter 4:**

* * *

"What is our estimated time of arrival?" Padmé said. She turned her head to look at Vader. He had no outward reaction to her words. His gaze was fixed forward.

Dead silence. Was he legitimately not listening to her, or was he just being rude? Ordinarily, she would have said something. She couldn't _stand_ being ignored, it was one of the quickest ways to get on her nerves. But something was telling her that it simply wasn't worth it, so she didn't bother. She then took a seat in the co-pilot's chair, though she doubted that Vader wanted her to touch any of the controls, which was ultimately his loss, because she wasn't such a bad pilot herself. Padmé wasn't even sure how he would respond to it, but she assumed from his past behavior that it would probably not turn out very well.

"30 hours," came his delayed reply.

Padmé paused. She wanted to go hide away in her cabin and say she was going to sleep until they reached their destination. It would spare her the awkwardness of sitting by his side for hours on end in total silence. But at the same time, she was nervous. She wanted to have Vader where she could see him, so that if he were to try anything, she would see it coming. Her fear took over, so there she stayed.

Not to mention that Obi-wan had told her to take advantage of the situation and look for clues as to Vader's identity. It was worth feeling the situation out and seeing what he was comfortable with revealing, but she had to make it seem subtle. It couldn't seem like she was interrogating him, only that she was trying to have a friendly conversation.

 _The day that she had a friendly conversation with Vader would be the day the galaxy imploded._

Padmé didn't know if he was even capable of _polite_ conversation, let alone anything that could be considered pleasant. And if he was, he certainly hadn't shown it. In fact, she didn't think that he had said more than ten consecutive words to her. There was no chance that this could work, that she could charm the likes of him. There was a good chance that he was a droid, anyway. But still, she wondered.

She had forced many obstinate individuals to bend to her will over the course of her political career, and it seemed to come more and more easily to her each time she did it. The task had been made simple when she grew into her features just a few short years ago, and with physical adulthood came greater mental maturity. Though she had always been remarkably mature for her age, there had been times during her term as queen when her age had been an obstacle.

But the question remained, could she do it? It was a lofty goal, but aiming high was so natural to her that she hardly knew anything else. It was drilled into her from the time she was very young. She had been the queen of her planet at _14_ , for Force's sake! And who was he? A nobody, a nobody who came out of thin air. No records, no family, _nothing._ Nobody knew who he was, but at the very least, Padmé knew that he didn't have what she had. Vader didn't have her titles, her reputation, her accomplishments. These were the things that made her strong, that distinguished her as a force to be reckoned with. But he worked in the shadows, that is, until recently. She was a seasoned professional, and he was no match for her. It was no mystery that his people skills were seriously lacking, and hers grew more potent with each coming day.

But doubt took over nonetheless. Vader didn't seem like the kind of man to tolerate anyone in a social capacity, let alone come to like or trust them. But didn't she have to at least try? Padmé remembered the bold claim she had made earlier, that she had never met anyone whom she hadn't been able to bend to her will. It was the truth, at least it _was._

"So I assume you've never been on any sort of diplomatic mission before, my lord?" she asked.

"Considering how much of a colossal waste of time it is, no, I haven't."

"You can hardly speak to something you know nothing of," Padmé said, feeling herself beginning to get frustrated. She paused to calm down. She reminded herself that she would make no progress this way.

"It is you who has no idea of what you speak," Vader said. There was nothing in his voice. No enthusiasm, no anger, no _nothing._ It was beyond unsettling. She elected to disregard what he had said in favor of steering the conversation elsewhere.

"I remember my first time dealing with such matters as interplanetary relations. I was significantly younger than you are now, but I was nervous all the same. Inexperience and age are, more often than not, linked. However, there are exceptions," Padmé said.

No response. Perhaps by making an assumption as to his age, she could get something out of him? It was unlikely, but worth a shot. She had offended him, made him uncomfortable. _Good._ If she was correct, the quickest way to earn his respect was to challenge him. But she could not lose her temper again, it needed to be controlled. Kriff, she hoped she was right about this.

"You would know a thing or two about that, Senator."

"Forgive me if I was out of line," she said, "It was not my intention to offend you."

"I do not get offended," he said.

"Of course you do, everyone does," Padmé said.

"Not me."

"Well I-"

"Get out," Vader said, and he sounded like he meant it. For someone who was trying to prove that he wasn't offended, he wasn't doing it well. But Padmé knew when she wasn't wanted, and in all honesty, she was growing tired of speaking to him. So she obliged him and left the cockpit, deciding to take a step back and reassess the situation before making her next move.

She opened the door to her cabin and stepped inside, locking it behind her. Padmé sat on the bed and pondered what it was she should do next. She could take a short nap, as she _was_ particularly tired. It would be a waste of time, but she decided to do it anyway. It wasn't as if she could comm Obi-wan and discuss battle plans, and she hadn't taken much of her work with her, so sleep seemed to be the best option. After all, it was already night back on Coruscant.

Padmé changed into her nightgown, set her alarm for 7 hours, and curled up underneath the blankets. Her eyes were heavy from the sleep she hadn't gotten last night, but so much was still on her mind. She was frightened to be lowering her guard like this considering who she was with, but it didn't matter whether she was asleep or not. If Vader wanted her dead, he would do it either way. Nonetheless, she fell asleep quickly.

* * *

Emperor Palpatine was used to waiting. He didn't mind it, and it had proven to be the most reliable way to get whatever it was that he wanted. He waited to become a senator, he waited to become Chancellor, and he waited to become Emperor. Patience had always been the key to his success, that much was certain.

And he would have to wait a little while longer before he could be rid of Senator Amidala, and with her, the rest of the rebels that were still left in the senate. Even if she wasn't their designated leader, she had more or less become their symbol, and that made her more dangerous. He doubted that they would be much without her. Amidala was adored throughout the galaxy, and her influence continued to spread.

But how _best_ to dispose of her? It would have been so _easy_ to give Vader the orders to kill her while he had her all alone and blame it on the rebels. There was merit in that idea, and it _could_ sway public opinion to their favor, that is, if anyone was stupid enough to believe it. No, no one would believe that the rebels would so much as touch Amidala.

Palpatine knew better.

The physical act of getting rid of her would have been so simple, and he was sure that he could do it at any time, but it was the _ramifications_ that stopped him. He had foreseen them, and they could cost him everything he had worked to achieve. The Empire was still new, and its hold over the galaxy was not yet stable. The Alliance was already enough to deal with, and to kill Amidala would be to make her into a martyr. What he _really_ needed was a way to control her while she was still alive.

He could imprison her, use torture to scare her into submission and get the information he so badly needed. He could order Vader to look after her even more closely. He could marry her off. The possibilities were endless. Palpatine would need to think on it and arrive at a decision before she returned from her mission.

* * *

Operations on the Dantooine base ran smoothly, just as they always had. It was one of the rebels' larger facilities, and it housed a couple thousand of their finest troops. Promising and ambitious recruits were sent there as well to complete their training. To be stationed there was both a blessing and a curse. Even though it was among the nicest bases, it _was_ in the middle of nowhere all the same.

It was Padmé's idea to scatter the Alliance's most important leaders throughout the galaxy on remote, backwater planets. A string of losses has left them vulnerable, and they could not afford to lose any more men.

"How many troops will the King be giving us?"

"Millions," Obi-wan said, "But it is imperative that we do not kill any more of the Emperor's men than is absolutely necessary. It will give them all the more reason to send reinforcements and take back the planet. We need to convince him that the planet is not worth the trouble of keeping."

"And then we can establish a stronghold in the mid-rim."

"Exactly. Being confined to the outer-rim has hindered our progress. I propose that we station squadrons of the King's men throughout the city, and we send our men to guard the palace."

"And what of Senator Amidala? Will she be off world by then?"

"We can't count on it. If she is unable to leave, I'm afraid there is nothing we can do. To help her would be to reveal her involvement in the Alliance, which as you know is a death sentence," Obi-wan said.

"And will you be going, Master Kenobi?"

Obi-wan laughed. "If it had been up to me, I would go with you to Shu-torun and challenge Vader. But, it often pays to be patient. That, and the senator has ordered me to stay put, and it is best to do as she says."

The Jedi was conflicted. On one hand, he had enough faith in his training and abilities that he could take on and defeat Vader, if he only received the order to do so. But would another, possibly more powerful apprentice take his place? That he could not be sure of, and though it was a risk Obi-wan was willing to take, Senator Amidala did not feel the same way.

In many ways, she was right. It wasn't the right time to eliminate Vader. The Alliance's army was too small and too weak as of late to attempt anything substantial, that was, until the king of Shu-torun offered his men to aid in the second attack. With their troops by their side, the rebels had a clear advantage. It all came down to how far the Emperor was willing to go to keep the planet.

* * *

Padmé woke with a start to the sharp beeping of her alarm, feeling well rested for the first time in, well, far too long. She pushed off the covers, got up, and stretched before making the bed. She then threw her robe over her nightgown, since it _was_ awfully cold in the ship. She made a mental note to find the temperature controls later and rectify it.

She unlocked and opened the door before walking back to the cockpit. There she found Vader just as she had left him, and he looked to have not moved an inch in the 7 hours she was gone.

"I can take over from here. You've been flying for 7 hours straight now," Padmé said.

"That will not be necessary," he said.

"I think that it is in both of our best interest if I fly for a while _._ You haven't rested, so your abilities are sure to be impaired."

"Even if they were, I would not be so stupid as to entrust such a task to the likes of you."

"I beg your pardon, but I am more than capable of flying this ship," Padmé said defensively. Was he saying that she was a bad pilot or that she was untrustworthy? She concluded that he probably meant to say both, but she wasn't sure which was more offensive to her. Probably the former, because although she hardly strove for mutual trust as a goal, it was ingrained in the senator's mind that impressing and commanding respect from others was of the highest importance.

"A senator who is both a marksman and a pilot, how _impressive_ ," Vader said. At this point he was very obviously mocking her, which Padmé didn't take kindly too. Her eyes narrowed.

"You'll find that we are full of surprises."

"That is precisely the problem," he said, adopting a more serious tone.

"I can't argue with that, in fact, you don't know the half of it. But you hate the senate for all the wrong reasons," Padmé said.

"I never said I hated the senate. I said that I hated _senators._ "

His words sent a chill down her spine. Once again, it felt as if he was threatening her. Well, two could play at that game.

"Oh, I understand completely. My hatred of military officers works the same way," Padmé said with a smile.

He didn't say anything, but she didn't expect him to. It seemed as if the only way she could trap him into having an actual conversation was to continually one-up him. That was the only thing he responded to, that is, until he lost. She concluded that he probably just wasn't used to it, since she was sure that nobody had made it this far with him and lived.

But for whatever reason, Palpatine didn't want her dead. At least not yet. Padmé couldn't fathom why, as she had been nothing but a thorn in his side from the very beginning. She didn't think that her popularity with the people could save her. Palpatine seemed to take and do what he wanted regardless of what the citizens of the empire wanted, because he now had the army he needed in order to do essentially whatever he pleased. If he had no use for her, he could have safely disposed of her by then.

"Let me fly the ship," Padmé said.

"No."

"With all due respect, you are being extremely childish. Go sleep."

"I don't need sleep," Vader said.

"Yes you do, everyone needs to rest," she said, "And you aren't convincing anyone by pretending that you don't."

"If I grant you this request, will you stop talking and leave me alone?"

"Yes," she said.

That seemed to be enough for him, because he got up from his seat and left the cockpit without another word. Padmé's gaze followed him for a moment, before she sat down and took hold of the controls.

Flying was probably one of her favorite things to do nowadays. It was so simple and calming, not to mention it gave her the time to clear her head. She would need a level head for the negotiations, even though she was sure that Obi-wan had taken care of most of it by now. Padmé knew she needed to put on a convincing show for Vader and make it all seem legitimate, but she wasn't sure how she would pull that off. Just looking at him made her blood boil.

He seemed like the type of person who could tell when he was being lied to anyway, even if all of that mind reading bantha fodder was actually true, and not just something the Emperor made up to make them think that he had a way to see into their thoughts. Padmé was no fool, she could see right through all of the Emperor's nonsense.

She could hardly wait to hear about the plans for the attack, as she hated being kept in the dark. If _he_ weren't here, it wouldn't have been a problem. He was getting in the way again. Not to mention his presence was putting her on edge for obvious reasons. Surely it was intentional. Clearly he was making an effort to intimidate her.

But she refused to let it get to her, and Vader was stupid if he thought that he could frighten her. He was more of a mystery than anything else, one that she wanted to crack. That is, after he had been defeated.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Thanks to everyone who faved/followed/reviewed! Telling me I got Padmé's characterization right was so reassuring because it was something I paid extra attention to! She's my favorite star wars character ever so it's very important to me.

I'd also like to explain why the updating schedule has been/will probably continue to be irregular, and I don't like to go into my personal life very often but basically I've been going through a rough time. That plus work and school have been keeping me away from my writing, which has been making me really upset! But don't worry, I won't stop writing because it's something I genuinely enjoy.

This chapter's song is Invocation by Gustav Holst.

" _One of the main effects of war, after all, is that people are discouraged from being characters."_

 _ **Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five**_

* * *

Vader wasn't sure what it was that Senator Amidala wanted from him. Her attempts at conversation were confusing to say the least. She was up to something no doubt, his master had gotten that much right.

He assumed that she made the effort to be amicable with everybody she met, such was the life of a politician. Even though the senator was clearly having trouble managing her facade, he was sure that the few polite words and stiff smiles were rehearsed and meant to give the illusion of being something personal, rather than professional.

Senator Amidala knew what her assets were, and used them accordingly. It was wise, and Vader was sure that most men couldn't see through it with the clarity that he possessed. He was free of her now, but for whatever reason he felt compelled to review the file his master had given him on her. He grabbed the data pad and opened it.

 _Padmé Naberrie Amidala._

She was born to parents of modest standing on Naboo 14 years prior to the invasion. She dedicated herself to public service at a young age: beginning as an apprentice legislator at 8 and becoming a junior senatorial advisor. She was a part of the legislative youth program at 12, and then started a 2 year mandate as supervisor of Theed before being elected queen at 14. Amidala wasn't her real name, only the one all Naboo royalty assumed when they took office. What a strange tradition.

She served two terms as queen before stepping down for her successor, the current Queen Jamillia. Senator Amidala was so beloved by her people that they would have amended the constitution in order for her to be allowed to serve another term. But, the _noble_ senator had too much integrity and faith in Naboo's democracy to have it changed, and was asked to serve as senator instead. Somehow she never saw the hilarity of a democratic monarchy in the first place.

There wasn't much more information of substance beyond that. Depending on who you asked, she was having an affair with Senator Rush Clovis. They had been together on and off for several years, but that was just tabloid gossip, and unimportant gossip at that. Clovis was an idiot and a fool compared to Amidala, and hardly a threat to anyone. She seemed like a woman who had her reasons, but Vader had a hard time understanding them, at least as far as this went.

He had been briefed on everything she had done within the past few years. He knew where she went, who she saw, even the color of her curtains. His master was not a perfect man, but nobody could ever criticize him for not being thorough. But despite all this intel, he couldn't help but feel that he didn't know her at all. Every word that came out of Amidala's mouth was a surprise. She was quick, clever, and unpredictable. The Emperor underestimated her. Vader would not make the same mistake.

* * *

With Padmé currently off world, things naturally became more complicated on Coruscant. Mon Mothma seldom appreciated her until she was gone. Mon knew that she was not the negotiator that Padmé was. No, she lacked gentleness and subtlety. She was tougher. Whether this was an advantage or not depended on who was asked. Some called her cold, but it didn't bother the senator much. She took great pride in the fact that she could be counted on to get the job done swiftly and competently. Padmé may have been the galaxy's sweetheart, and that was all well and good, but she was reckless. She lacked dependability.

That was why they worked so well together, they each had talent where the other did not. So when the call went out, they were the first to respond.

And, once again, the call has gone out, but this time Mon had to answer it alone. That was why she sat across from Bana Breemu, and though she was a long time ally and friend, the tenseness in the air was difficult to ignore. It was the anticipation. Before she had left Coruscant, Padmé had set up this meeting. She had faith that perhaps Mon would succeed in swaying Hack Fenlon to their cause, if not permanently then if only for the most important item on the current agenda. Well, not _their_ agenda so much as Padmé's.

The anti-slavery law.

When her colleague had mentioned it before leaving, Mon knew that something was wrong. Padmé had written the bill a long time ago, even before the rise of the Empire. It had been shot down so many times that she simply gave up, at least for the time being. But was it the right time to try again? This could have meant one of two things: either Padmé knew that her end was drawing near and she wanted to tie some loose ends and secure her legacy, or, for whatever her reasons were, she believed that the time was right.

Nothing was set in stone yet, and all that she asked was that she begin to do some of the preliminary groundwork. Fenlon would have to wait, either that or she'd have Bail take him on if this went on long. For some reason though, she didn't think that it would. Breemu was quick and to the point, just how she liked it. The Humbarine senator wasn't one for empty casualties, or flattery for that matter.

"What's left of the old loyalist committee will offer their support, and I'm sure with some time we can get a substantial majority with the core faction," Breemu said.

"That isn't my concern. What worries me is whether or not the trade commission will back us. If you recall, they were the very reason the bill was defeated in the first place."

"So what is it you want from me?"

"If that is how you feel, I'll cut to the chase. I need you to, when the time comes, publicly endorse the bill. People listen to you, your word is highly esteemed."

The Humbarine senator didn't say anything right away, staring at the other woman instead. Before the Empire, she had been a close friend and ally but lately, Mon could feel her loyalty slipping. But who could blame her? She was one of many senators who had decided to distance themselves from their circle. It was so much smarter and safer.

"Senator Mothma, you know that I cannot promise you anything. After all, what does any of this have to do with my system or its allies?" Breemu said.

"Then tell me what I can do to change your mind," Mon said, pleading with her. She hated lowering herself to this, but even if it didn't seem like it, she wanted this bill to make it to the floor as badly as Padmé did. Their ideological similarities has been the foundation of their friendship, after all.

"We have known each other for many years, and you know that I respect you greatly, but do not delude yourself. We have such little power that I doubt you have anything meaningful to offer me that would justify putting my entire system at risk."

"Name it. You may be right, we do have few formal powers as imperial senators, but when has that ever stopped Senator Amidala and I from getting things done? Leave the specifics to me and simply state your demands."

"As I'm sure you know, my people tire of quartering imperial troops, and their brutality has caused unrest. End the military occupation of my system, and I will help you."

Of everything she could have asked for, she just _had_ to ask the impossible. Not that Mon had expected any less of Breemu. She was a smart woman, and not easily taken advantage of. She hadn't gotten as far as she had by being a fool, that much was certain. There was no way she could get her what she wanted, but, at the very least, she resolved to pass her demands on to Padmé. She would be livid if she did otherwise.

Padmé could be counted on to make the improbable happen. She usually called on a favor or two. More people respected her and valued her opinion than she realized.

"What you've asked of me is ridiculous, and you cannot think that I am foolish enough to think that your votes are worth even a quarter of what you would have me do, and quite frankly, you insult me," Mon said.

"Listen, I am sympathetic to your cause. I have been for a long time, and you know that, but if I am to put the wellbeing of my system as well as my own life on the line, I would like for it to be worth my while. I'm sure you understand," Breemu said with a polite smile.

"I will make no guarantees right now, but I will have your answer by the end of the week."

"Very well. You know where to find me," she said before rising from her chair and exiting the room.

* * *

The ship's comm was ringing, and Padmé wasn't sure whether or not she was happy to hear it. The sound was absolutely dreadful, but, on one hand, flying had become boring. She was hardly in the mood for work related business, but she answered it anyway without even looking to check who it was. She quickly saw that it was Mon, presumably to check in on the status on their legislative agenda. Now this was something that Padmé was anxious to hear about.

"Mon? What is it?"

"I just spoke with Senator Breemu."

"And what did she say?"

"She said that she would get us our votes in exchange for outlawing the quartering of troops, and moving the vast majority of them out of her system."

Padmé couldn't believe what she was hearing, but, at the same time, it was predictable behavior on Breemu's part. She had once been an ally, a morally upstanding woman. However, she, like many others, let their fear of the Emperor control them. She couldn't put blame on them. After all, it was for the greater good of their citizens in their view. It just had never been Padmé's.

"Unbelievable. She is clearly and shamelessly taking advantage of us! Try and talk her down to something less drastic, don't stop until you agree-"

" _I tried negotiation._ Her original request was to end occupation of her system completely," Mon said.

"I cannot believe this. If Senator Breemu thinks that she can take advantage of us then I will turn this ship around and meet with her myself and I'll make it _abundantly_ clear to her that we are not messing around-"

"Relax. We don't need her, I will find another way, _we_ will find another way-"

"No. Tell her that we accept her terms, and I will meet with her personally when I return to Coruscant."

"We cannot promise her what she is asking. You have neither the power nor the authority-"

"I'm not going to give it to her, but that is the only way to get her attention. Trust me, this will be taken care of. I-I'll think of something. I always do. We can't let this bill die, not again. It's my legacy."

"You don't have to worry about your legacy, I won't let you die," she said, but Padmé wasn't reassured by her words. She thought that the call would remind her of what she was fighting for, but it only served to make her feel distanced from it all.

"I promise you I _will_ think of something. This is of the utmost importance to me, you have to know that," Padmé said

"No, don't. Focus on the mission, it's more important. I will ask Bail to meet with her. Perhaps he will have more success in changing her mind. I have to go, but I wish you well. We can discuss this at greater lengths not if, but _when_ you return," Mon said before hanging up.

Padmé opened her mouth to speak, but stopped when she realized that her friend was no longer on the other line. She was the type to hang up on people like that, and the senator couldn't stand being silenced like that. The senator was far too accustomed to her voice being belittled or just flat out ignored that she was sensitive to this type of thing. It was unbearable.

On second thought, that was an exaggeration. But she hadn't exactly been in the best of moods lately, so that much was to be expected. She shifted her attentions elsewhere, deciding it would be best to focus on flying for now. It was irritating that something had come in the way of what had become a method of relaxation.

The time had flown much faster than usual, and there was only two hours left before they would reach their destination according to the navigation system. She contemplated going to wake Vader, but decided against it. She doubted that he was sleeping, did he even need to sleep? Padmé didn't particularly care, and thus didn't plan on finding out.

Things were going smoothly until she noticed strange sounds coming from the engine, and, consequently, unusually thick gas emanating from the back of the outside of the ship. Padmé activated the autopilot and went to the engine room in order to investigate. Of course when they were this close, things would begin to fall apart.

Padmé wasn't a naturally gifted technician, but she had picked up a few things over the years, and she had faith that she could fix whatever was wrong without asking for help. Kriff, she wouldn't have asked even if she needed it. Which she didn't.

She began by checking the most vital parts of the engine, and found that it had been recalibrated, and consequently fell apart. That was odd. Padmé couldn't imagine who would have done such a thing, and she could only hope that it hadn't thrown them off course. She had figured out what the problem was, but solving it would be a challenge. There had to be spare parts around here somewhere, but even if there were, would she be able to pull this off?

She doubted it, but at the very least she had to try.

Padmé opened the storage closet and found the spare parts. She wasn't sure which ones she would need, so she grabbed the first few that she saw, some tools, and got to work.

"What are you doing?" Vader said, having, _yet again_ , appeared unannounced and unwelcome. Her brows furrowed at the sound of his voice filling the room. She had gotten rid of him for a few hours, but apparently he couldn't avoid being a complete and utter menace for the rest of the trip.

"There's something wrong with the ship, so I am fixing the problem," she said, her voice monotone and unchanging.

"You are doing more harm than good," he said, raising his hand and using the force to bring the wrench she currently held over to him, "Move."

Padmé thought about what to do. She could fight him on this, claim that she could fix this ship just as well as he could, if not better, and lose the argument. Or she could choose her battles and let him have this one. The latter was far more appealing. The anger that bubbled inside of her when the wrench slipped from her fingers was difficult to swallow, but she did it anyway.

"Fine, have it your way. I did most of the work already, so you're welcome," she said, not about to let him have the last word.

Vader didn't respond, instead busying himself with the repairs. This almost made Padmé angrier. Being ignored was so much worse. She shrugged it off and leaned against the wall and watched, still curious as to just how skilled he was. It was far fetched, but perhaps it could give some inkling of evidence as to who or what he was, and with that would come knowledge of his weaknesses.

If he had any humanity in him, it was gone in an instant when he was working with machines. He was far too quick and precise, almost like he was in a trance. She thought to ask him if he had always been so skilled, and where he had learned all of it, but decided against it. He probably wouldn't answer her anyway.

"What are you still doing here?" He said, not bothering to stop what he was doing while he said it.

"I'm curious as to what the problem was, that is all." It was a good enough excuse.

" _Someone_ recalibrated the engine," came his curt reply. He seemed frustrated as well, and his tone was accusatory.

"That is what I suspected. Does this not trouble you? With this comes the implication that-"

"Someone recalibrated the engine. I know."

"You don't think that this is worth looking into?" She asked, "If there is someone trying to sabotage this mission then we need to-"

"This is obviously the work of your rebel friends. Do not insult me by pretending you weren't aware," he said.

"Stop interrupting me and listen for more than five seconds and maybe _then_ you would learn something," Padmé said, feeling the irritation build in her tone. It wasn't controlled, but at the very least she seemed to have gotten his attention. She turned to walk away, content with having roused his anger.

"No, you are to stay here where I can see you. I won't have any other part of the ship messed with."

"And do what? Take you down with me? Do you think I have a death wish?" Padmé said.

"Yes."

"Well you've miscalculated," she said with a smile, "You would certainly like it if I did, wouldn't you?"

He didn't say anything, and neither did she. Padmé was content to observe and study him, and Vader was content to concentrate on the repairs. He didn't look so evil just then, and the way he treated the machines with gentleness and care came as a surprise. Was it the slightest trace of vulnerability she detected? The senator couldn't be sure if it was foolish, but she was less frightened of him now than she had been before.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Here's a chapter from Vader's point of view, because I realized I hadn't done that yet! Thanks for everyone that faved/followed/reviewed, and if you can, I would appreciate even more! Coming up next chapter: find out what Palpatine is planning to do once he has incriminating evidence against Padmé! Spoiler: no one is going to die in the seventh chapter obviously but things will happen, and I am considering raising the rating quite soon just as a heads up.

* * *

" _All men can see the tactics whereby I conquer, but what none can see is the strategy out of which victory is evolved."_

 _Sun Tzu_

* * *

Padmé was as baffled by what had happened to the ship as Vader was, but she could understand his suspicions. It sounded exactly like something she'd do, and quite frankly, she was upset she hadn't thought of it herself. Even though she would die in the process, her sacrifice would certainly not be in vain if it meant taking him down. How many millions of lives would be spared? How many wars never fought? The galaxy would be a better place, no doubt.

None of that mattered now. All that mattered was that she looked awfully guilty of attempted murder, of the first degree no less. Vader seemed like the type to hold grudges, and he could very well have her executed or thrown in a cell to rot without even the mention of a fair trial if he so pleased. The Emperor wanted nothing more than to get rid of her once and for all, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity, so perfect that Padmé was inclined to believe it was all by his design.

But no one would believe that, at least not anybody that could do anything to help her out of this mess.

"You can't _possibly_ think that I'm capable of sabotaging the ship, not after you just felt moved to comment on my utter lack of skill in that department," Padmé said.

"If I'm not mistaken, you were just railing on about how much of a capable mechanic you are. So you claim ignorance only when it is convenient to do so?" He raised his right hand, as if to begin strangling her, and she immediately flinched and went into a panic.

He reveled in the feeling of power that he felt in that moment. Though other beings had succumbed to him in this way, it was infinitely more satisfying coming from the senator. Knowing that he inspired enough fear to break her seemingly invincible facade.

"Well, I-I have never claimed to be skilled, I never learned because it isn't often that I find myself in a situation like this. I know the basics, and I-I was simply trying to fix the engine to the best of my abilities." She had the tendency to ramble when she was nervous, and this was one of those times. The words spilled out quickly and without thought.

"Enough! I won't be led into a trap," he said, raising his voice. It was already naturally authoritative when he spoke in a mere conversational tone, but this was something else entirely. Again, Padmé found herself legitimately frightened.

To the senator, true fear was rare. It was the type that couldn't be swallowed or surmounted, only accepted for what it was.

"Someone is trying to stop me, I mean us, as well as this _mission,_ if anything it means that there is all the more reason to continue."

"We will stop at the nearest civilized planet for fuel and parts, and then we will return to Coruscant where the Emperor will decide what to do with you. An attempted assassination is quite a serious crime," he said.

Padmé was speechless. She _could_ indeed be killed as a result of this voyage, but not for the reasons she had originally anticipated. Was it possible that the Alliance had acted without consulting her? No, absolutely not. If she allowed her opposition to instill distrust in her mind and distance between them, then the Empire had already won. They could kill her and put her head on a spike, but she wouldn't fall victim to their trickery.

"So you intend on letting whoever did this win?" She said.

"You must be quite the politician, Senator. Lying comes far too easily to you," he said.

"We are not turning around. This is far too important. I put both my life and work on hold to-"

"Would you like to return with me once the Emperor allocates enough troops to launch the campaign I should have led to begin with?"

She was silent.

"I thought not," Vader said.

"So you'll have me arrested over this, most likely killed for a crime you know I am not capable of committing."

"That's the idea, and if you are as innocent as you seem to believe you are, you will have a trial to prove yourself."

"If I am even given a trial, it will be nothing more than a sham and you know that."

"Am I to add a count of sedition in my report to the Emperor?" He said smugly. It was satisfying to have her backed into a corner with no way out. He had always had the upper hand, but for the first time he really, truly felt it.

"You won't get away with this, there _will_ be consequences, do you know how difficult it is to indict a senator? It isn't done."

"Times have changed. You, in not changing with them, have signed your own death warrant," he said.

* * *

With anonymity came a certain level of freedom that Darth Vader seldom experienced. With the engine in the sorry state that it was, and with the _convenient_ lack of parts to do more than just patch it up, not to mention the need for fuel, he had no choice but to stop in the nearest system. This just so happened to be Malastare.

It was a pod-racing planet. He remembered huddling around a makeshift holo-transmitter in his youth to watch the Malastare 100, the Dug Derby, and all the rest of those silly competitions. He remembered Anakin's ridiculous dream to participate in them someday, to rise above his station. He even went so far as to build his own pod out of garbage parts. Anakin enjoyed everything about pod-racing, both watching it and the ides of participating in it himself. But he forced those thoughts away for the time being. Anakin had a habit of sneaking up on him, but Vader knew better. Anakin was dead, killed years ago. Long gone. His presence should not have plagued him still, but it did nonetheless. What was the root of this weakness? He knew that it could not be eradicated unless he knew where it was coming from, and it nagged at him constantly.

Landing the ship was no challenge to him, even with the malfunctioning engine. It was small and agile. He'd piloted far worse than this and come out of it with his life, but that didn't mean he was willing to take the risk this time, especially since he didn't have to. It would make the senator unhappy if he didn't do something to rectify the situation. It was far less about actually caring for her discomfort than it was about not having to tolerate insolence and disobedience on her part.

His master was right when he said that politics was nothing like the military, and Darth Vader thought that it would be much better if it were. The senate would benefit greatly from a clear chain of command.

After he landed the ship, it was time to ensure total anonymity. He couldn't very well carry his lightsaber around, as it was a dead giveaway. Not that other beings didn't have stolen lightsabers, because they did, but it wasn't the type of attention that Vader wanted to draw to himself. Still, he couldn't bear to part with it so he concealed it underneath his clothing instead. It would be there if he needed to use it, but that would be an absolute last resort. Even though many outlaws had stolen lightsabers, it would draw unnecessary attention and raise questions. All stolen lightsabers were _Jedi_ lightsabers, and his red one would raise questions.

The senator was locked in her room. There was no way she could interrupt. It was safe, so he removed the hood of his cloak and the fabric beneath it that covered his face.

His bare skin felt good as it came into contact with the air, as Vader had almost forgotten what that felt like. Once it must have been so natural, but now he just felt exposed. When was the last time he had even looked at his own reflection? It wasn't recently. He didn't like to with any regularity, as keeping up with one's physical appearance was a waste of time in his mind. What he couldn't admit were the debilitating bouts of disassociation that often followed. Training had left him with more scars than he could count, and now that he was around other humans with some degree of frequency, he had a barometer by which to measure his features. He hardly cared before, but they were enough now for him to turn at the sight of a mirror. But he pushed those thoughts away. Vanity was of no import to him. It never had been, so he didn't see why it should be now.

Vader left the vessel and made sure to lock it as well. The last thing he wanted was the senator escaping, or some petty criminal gutting the ship. Then they would be stuck there for at least a day or two, and if he returned only to find her dead, he knew that his master would not be pleased. It was for her own good, really, as he was sure she would get into trouble on her own. They had landed in a clearing that was part of a larger forest, and according to the maps it was 5 miles to Pixelito, the capital and largest city.

The walk was brief and calming. It felt good to be alone, especially with the senator's constant need to bicker. Despite his best efforts, he didn't understand her. She either had no concept of the vulnerable position she was in or she simply didn't care for her own safety. It was incredible that she'd made it this far, though he had an idea as to how now that he had met her.

Everyone on Coruscant wanted her, and she knew it. She constantly used it to her advantage, but then again, how could she not? It was so effective that Vader seemed to be the only one who was above it. The only being in the galaxy with any kriffing self control.

But if he was as far above it as he had led himself to believe, why was he wasting his thoughts on her now? It wasn't for lack of more important things to think about, there was the mission at hand to consider. If he remembered his Gran correctly, the errand should go quickly and smoothly. Vader racked his brain for the things that Threepio taught him about the language, and, though his memory of it was fuzzy, it should have been sufficient for the task at hand.

In recent years, Vader had grown accustomed to speaking and writing in basic, at the expense of his foreign language skills becoming rusty at best. He would have to rectify that when he had the time to spare. He must not become soft and complacent among the luxuries of Coruscant like his master. Ironically enough, he had been the one to warn Vader of the dangers of comfort, yet he thought himself above taking his own advice.

After walking for about 2 hours, he arrived at Pixelito. It was unimpressive when compared to the splendor of the surface of Coruscant, but it also wasn't the smallest city he had seen. The streets were packed with throngs of mostly Grans and Dugs, and some humans dotting the crowd.

It took about an hour to locate a shop that sold the parts he needed, and another hour on top of that to talk the Gran that owned it down to a reasonable price. It was a godsend that there had been any credits on board with them at all, and Vader could feel himself within an inch of losing his temper. He could have cut the Gran's head off with one swift motion, but he restrained himself. It wasn't wise to draw attention to himself, was that not the reason he had decided against landing the ship in the proper port in the first place? Nobody could know that they were here, or it would complicate everything beyond what he was willing to deal with. The ship was too conspicuous and showy; it was bound to draw attention, even if he was able to keep his exact identity hidden. The freedom to do business without that burden was priceless, and worth the extra effort it took.

It was well worth the walk back to the ship, even with the added burden of carrying the parts. It was hot, but the weather was no obstacle. Vader was no stranger to pain, his master's training made sure of that. He had been denied comfort from a young age, even before his master had taken him on as his apprentice. It was a grim reality, the only one he had ever known. He did only what was required of him, nothing more, nothing less, regardless of the damage to his person.

The senator seemed to understand that at the very least, as she was the most stubborn woman he had ever met, and he hadn't known her for longer than a week. It was almost a pity that she was on the wrong side. _Almost._

Vader reached the ship and walked up the bridge and inside. At the sound of his entrance he could hear the senator from behind the door, though her words were indistinct. It didn't matter; he knew exactly what she wanted, but she would have to wait. For now, he phased her voice out.

He grabbed the fabric of his mask and covered his face with it before pulling his hood over his head as well. It was an unwelcome change, but he was grateful for the time he had spent without the cumbersome head coverings. After he had done that, he unlocked the door to the senator's room. She burst out immediately, and she looked frustrated.

"You didn't need to lock me inside, as if I would have gone anywhere," she scoffed.

He said nothing, turning his back to her and beginning to move the parts onto the ship absentmindedly with the force. Experience and repetition had made it a simple task, one that came so easily to him that it didn't require the slightest acknowledgement, not even the flick of his wrist if he was feeling lazy.

"Being stranded here with you for any stretch of time is hardly my idea of pleasant, so I don't see why you are hell bent on believing I aim to prolong it," the senator said, obviously irate with his ignoring her. But he didn't pay her any mind. With any luck, they would be off this dirtball and on their way to Coruscant, where he would turn the senator over to his master. He would be pleased, perhaps pleased enough to put an end to all of this nonsense of learning about politics. Vader would return to what he did best, what he was created to do in the first place. Leading the Imperial Navy.

She was distressed for the thought of her imminent execution, no doubt. The senator didn't seem to be able to handle not getting her way, and it must have infuriated her that there was nothing she could do to change her fate. Vader wondered what his master would do with her. Would he bother with a sham of a trial or execute her outright? The Emperor could task him with torturing her for information, but he would regret such a waste of his time. He had no desire to torture the senator, only to move on from this pointlessness.

Perhaps she could be convinced to forfeit the information in exchange for her life, but he doubted it. Her will was strong, and her dedication to the Alliance even stronger.

Vader turned to see that she had given up on him for now, and was now laying back in the co-pilot's chair. It was so effortless, yet her grace and poise were still evident. He supposed that she was groomed for this her entire life, of course she embodied dignity in whatever she did, even if she seemed to be relaxing. What other beings saw in her that was so special wasn't such a mystery to him anymore. At the very least, he could understand what about the senator was so attractive, not that he had fallen prey to it.

No, that was not the case at all. Understanding something was the most substantial measure one could take to _avoid_ becoming its next victim. His master had told him that many years ago, when he was so much younger, but still, he remembered it all so vividly. Though most of his childhood had been a blur, Vader remembered everything in which his master had instructed him, and those lessons had served him well. Whether or not the Emperor had realized it or not, they had allowed Vader to surpass him.

This could all be one of his master's tests, in fact, he was sure of that now. Everything was one of his tests.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** This week on Tethered: we find out what Palpy is up to and the story can truly begin! Everything up until now has been an introduction of sorts to the story, and I hope you are all pleased with the direction I'm going in.

This chapter's song is: Maria Callas's interpretation of O Mio Babbino Caro by Puccini

" _Whenever a man does a thoroughly stupid thing, it is always from the noblest motives."_

 **Oscar Wilde**

* * *

After the ship landed, a group of 5 or so troopers dragged her to a holding cell somewhere in the building, almost certainly underground. It was all done despite her request to go willingly. She could have thrown a fit and resist the arrest, but she didn't see any point in it now. The second she left Coruscant she was doomed one way or another, though she regretted that her death here would most likely be slow and agonizing. The senator anticipated the brutal torture she heard about by whispers in an effort to extract useful information. From what she had heard about the Empire's alleged torture methods, it was far from a pleasant way to go. It was dark in the cell already without having been as poorly lit as it was, and there wasn't much for her to do other than wait. She remembered one of the troopers telling her that she was to have an audience with the Emperor, but she was never told _when_ that would happen exactly.

Padmé supposed she could be here for days, maybe even weeks if Palpatine planned to withhold the truth about the mission's abrupt end. He may be of the mind that leaving her here to rot for a few weeks would make her more responsive to interrogation. Hell if she knew. It was comforting that he wouldn't be able to put this off forever, as eventually people would start asking questions. However, she doubted that he would wait long. Quick and decisive action was the only way she could see her execution stirring the least possible bit of sympathy. If the trial were to be dragged out, she would have time to garner support, or at least to go into hiding.

All things considered, the cell wasn't too bad. At least it wasn't nearly as bad as she had anticipated it to be. Yes, she hated to admit that things certainly could have been worse, though that didn't mean they couldn't have been better. The cell may have been small, but there was a bed on which for her to recline and a bathroom should she need it. The structure of it led her to believe that she could be trapped for quite a long time. She wondered why they didn't just throw her in some dungeon-like space, the image her mind had constructed of imperial prisons. Perhaps they were like that, and perhaps she would experience one in the near future, but for whatever reason the holding blocks in the palace were decent.

She rubbed her eyes. It was impossible for her to sleep on the trip back to Coruscant, as she was just too frightened. Even though she cloistered herself in her cabin, she couldn't bring herself to let her guard down. But after waiting a few hours in the cell, she was convinced that it might be a while before she gets her audience with the Emperor. So she laid back and closed her eyes, waiting for unconsciousness to take her.

* * *

Padmé didn't know how much time had elapsed when she was woken by a loud banging at the door. She wasn't sure why the trooper had even bothered to knock, because the second after they barged in and told her quickly that it was time to leave. They cuffed her hands behind her back and promptly led her out of the cell.

It would have been helpful if they decided to tell her where exactly she was going, as the anticipation was killing her. What if the Emperor decided to just kill her now and wash his hands of the whole affair? Or worse, what if bouts of torture or an interrogation awaited her?

Eventually, Padmé concluded that they were leading her to the throne room. It was a relief on one front that she would not be executed right away, but the fact that she was actually having an audience with the most powerful being in the galaxy didn't help her nerves. Padmé was at a point where she thought she knew how to deal with Palpatine, but these circumstances were not favorable, and there was no telling what he would do. She had seen it once before, but under more pleasant circumstances in which she currently found herself. It was a splendid room, exquisitely furnished and designed. A paragon of opulence. This was the image of the Empire that Palpatine sought to establish, though it existed in few places other than this one. The trooper that cuffed her and dragged her there handed her off to the guards before leaving.

So there she stood, sure of the fact that she would soon die, but grasping desperately at whatever dignity she had left until the Emperor entered the room.

The Emperor had been a sneaky man in his days as chancellor, but a boldness that came as product of his new position made his endeavors more conspicuous than ever. It bordered on carelessness Padmé figured that he had gotten caught up in his newfound power, and the wealth that it brought. The sudden acquisition of material possessions had profound effects on the ego. He had walked with confidence before, but it was nothing like this. Vader followed closely behind, which was to be expected. He stood to the Emperor's right side and said nothing, which was also to be expected.

"Your majesty," Padmé said, bowing stiffly out of courtesy.

"Senator Amidala," he spat, the anger in his tone difficult to ignore.

"I am honored by your presence, but I regret the circumstances that have brought us together today. I plead innocent to the crime of which I am accused, and I ask that you look into your heart, look upon the person that you know me to be. Your majesty has known me from when I was a child, and surely-"

"Do not be so foolish as to think that I can't see through your act. I am perhaps the only being in the galaxy that is immune to it, because I practically _invented_ it," Palpatine said.

"Then what does your majesty ask of me? That I go to trial? Die for a crime I did not commit and let the true transgressor go unpunished?"

"That is enough!" Palpatine said, his voice booming and echoing through the hollowness of the room. Padmé could not have prepared for what he did next, but when he raised his right hand she had a fairly reasonable idea of what was coming.

Her expectations were shattered when lightning emerged, and rather than feeling her throat constrict, she was struck with powerful electricity that surged through her body causing intense pain wherever it went. Tears escaped her eyes in the frenzy as she felt her skin and insides burning.

She felt her muscles spasm and throw her to the ground, but still kept herself from screaming. No, she would not give him the satisfaction of hearing her suffer. But as quickly as it started, the pain vanished as soon as he willed it to do so.

"Admit your guilt," the Emperor commanded, before sending the surge of electricity through her again, but at longer intervals this time. And again, but not only longer, but more powerful the third time. Padmé could feel herself drifting in and out of consciousness, to the point where everything was hazy and she had the sensation of having almost left her body entirely before he gave her some relief.

"I-I see now that you believe me to be a conspirator and murderer, and that there is no way for me to convince you otherwise," she said, trying to get up from the floor before stumbling and falling back, "B-but you have brought me here for some other reason, if your intention was to execute me you would have done it already."

"You are correct, there _is_ in fact something that I want from you, something that could earn you a pardon."

"Name it, but I shall make no promises, except to consider your proposal."

Palpatine laughed, and the sickening sound filled the throne room. "I don't think that you're in any position to refuse my offer."

"Why don't you make your offer _first_ before you assume what my answer will be?" Padmé said.

"Very well. If you enter into an arranged marriage with Lord Vader, then I will spare your life, so long as you behave in accordance with certain guidelines."

Padmé's initial reaction to the Emperor's words was shock, which transformed into raw anger. She turned to observe Vader's reaction, and was surprised to find him in what she assumed to be a very similar state. He moved for the first time since the beginning of the audience, and he was not facing his master. She concluded that if she were able to see his facial expression, it would be much like her own. But that didn't make sense, wouldn't he have known about this beforehand? What did Palpatine gain from keeping his own apprentice in the dark?

This was ridiculous. Even if her life would be spared, being the Emperor's pawn was no way to live, and neither was being married to that monster, even if it was political. Who was to say he wouldn't turn on her and kill her anyway? But to be degraded like that, and in the public eye no less, Padmé wouldn't stand for it. His reasons for doing this were awfully transparent, it was obvious that he wanted Vader to keep tabs on her until she slipped up and revealed key information about the Alliance. She couldn't abandon her dignity, or the chance that she could accidentally reveal rebel information for the prospect of survival that would very likel be short lived.

"With respect, your majesty, I refuse your offer. I would rather die than lower myself in this way," she said.

"I thought you might say that, which is why I have prepared an _extra_ incentive," Palpatine said, with another smug laugh.

"Don't waste my time or yours, I've already said that I'm not interested," she said curtly.

"Then I suppose you don't want to hear about how your father and sister have been? You have a lovely family, I just went to visit them myself on Naboo. It's a good to return home after having been away for such a long time."

"What have you done with them?" Padmé yelled. The mention of her family awakened a passion in her, just as the Emperor had anticipated no doubt. He knew that she cared little for her own life, but was fiercely protective of them.

"Nothing yet, and so long as you do _precisely_ as I say, nothing ever will. In fact, I am willing to grant them my protection. I've heard your dear father has been in trouble with the law as of late, something having to do with suspected treasonous activity if I recall correctly."

"And how am I to know that you are telling the truth?" Padmé asked.

"I'm glad you asked. I meant to send it by mail, but now is as good a time as ever to pass the gift along," Palpatine said, motioning for one of the red guards to come forth. She was always fascinated by the silence of their steps and movements, and had he never called for them, she may not have detected the guards at all. He traversed the room and laid a wooden box at her feet.

"Go on, open it," Palpatine said with a smile.

She bent to pick it up and was hesitant in opening the lid to peer inside. Padmé wasn't sure what she expected, but what she saw disgusted her. Occupying the box were two severed fingers, looking to be cut off fairly recently, and she recognized them instantly as the respective index fingers of her sister and father. The appendages had a foul smell, causing a sour feeling to develop in her stomach. She dropped the box and covered her mouth, unable to find the words to describe her anger.

Had she been anywhere else she would have regurgitated right then and there. But no, she refused to give him the satisfaction he had probably pulled this stunt to gain.

"This is _sick_ , if you believe me to have committed a crime then by all means punish me as you see fit, but do not be so nonsensical as to bring anyone else into this-"

"I already have them in custody. If you'd like, I can make arrangements for more _souvenirs_ to be sent to you by mail if you are having trouble deciding. Your choice."

"I-I," she said, having trouble actually forcing out the words, "I accept your terms."

"Excellent. We will be in touch," Palpatine said, motioning for the guards, "Show Senator Amidala out."

The three guards, clothed fully in red surrounded her and they walked toward the door and eventually outside. Her eyes had grown momentarily accustomed to the dimness of the throne room so that the sunlight seemed far brighter than usual, not to mention that it was a particularly sunny day to begin with. The guards left her at the door and retreated back inside without a word.

Padmé's first instinct was to return to her apartment. She needed a fresh change of clothes, as well as to examine the damage the force lightning had left on her skin, so she decided to head straight home. Dormé was still on vacation, so Padmé would be on her own for the next few days. This was both a blessing and a curse, because it meant she wouldn't have to explain her current situation to anyone just yet.

* * *

The dazed feeling Padmé felt began to leave once she returned home. Things had been moving so quickly this past week that she relished in any small opportunity to relax that made itself available.

But there was no time for that now, not after the predicament she now found herself in. She had to hand it to Palpatine, he really _had_ backed her into a corner. She could flee the planet with the help of her friends in the Alliance, sure, but to do that would essentially kill her family. Not to mention she would never be able to return to Coruscant, she would have to leave everything she worked so hard to achieve behind.

 _And if she stayed?_ Padmé knew that this was about control, and that it would be impossible to do much of anything if Vader was constantly supervising her. She might as well kiss her position with the Alliance goodbye. Even if she learned to be even more covert than she already was, Padmé couldn't possibly be able to keep it up forever. But she was assuming that after word of this _engagement_ got out the rebels would still accept her as one of them.

She could be off-planet within the hour if she made the call soon. The appropriate measures were already in place in preparation for a situation like this, and no questions would be asked straightaway. Padmé knew she could lie, she could say that she would have been tortured or executed had she stayed. That would certainly take the embarrassment out of it.

But she couldn't. It was selfish of her to choose her freedom over her the lives of her father and sister. How could she live with herself if she were to abandon them? No. She couldn't allow herself to be so selfish. She _had_ to see this through, put on an act at least until she knew she wasn't putting any lives at risk.

It was important to Padmé that she notify the others of her plan before they hear a different version of things through other means. She believed she could soften the blow, though probably not by much. She grabbed her communicator and dialed for Bail.

No answer. She would have to leave a message.

"I have something of the utmost importance to discuss, please tell me when you are able to meet with me," Padmé said.

She decided to take a bath while she waited for a call back, at the very least to examine any burn marks if she had them. Usually Dormé would take care of it for her, but she wasn't here, so Padmé went into the bathroom and started it herself. Even though she missed her handmaiden, there was something soothing about the solitude. She realized that it was the first time in too long that she was allowed to be completely alone, with her only responsibility being to herself. It dawned on her that perhaps the reason she had been so irritable as of late was the fact that everyone seemed to be smothering her. Or maybe Padmé was merely feeling the pressure of the scrutiny she was now under, and it was becoming too much.

Palpatine was so utterly transparent in his efforts to punish her, as he usually was, but this was taking things to a whole other level. Padmé dealt with the suspensions and the attempted arrests, even though they contributed to the decline of her reputation, and the lack of respect she received from her peers recently. It was all strategic, and the senator had done her best to shoulder each blow but this was entirely too far. The marriage proposal was a lifetime solution to his grievances with her behavior.

Palpatine would be able to achieve the constant surveillance he desired, in order to extract the information he needed to crush the rebellion. He could make her endure a pregnancy and raise Vader's devil children. He would have an excuse to remove her from the senate permanently.

But there was no other alternative, no possible escape. _At least not yet._


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Hey everyone! Real life has been crazy since I was busy with moving. However, I'm back! This chapter was really hard to write because I think we all know who I want to be together in this story, but it's never that simple, and conflict is what makes a story. I hope you enjoy and don't forget to review if you have suggestions!

* * *

It was an uneventful rest of the night, and Padmé saw no changes in her nightly routine despite the storm of activity that had colored the last few days. She tried to push the worries from her mind but they persisted still, and she thought that she hadn't felt so on edge in years.

The stress was certainly taking its toll, she thought, staring into the mirror and noticing the prominent bags under her eyes that makeup failed to cover. She was unhappy at the sight of herself and her tiredness, wondering if anybody took notice of her dishevelment. Padmé put the thought out of her mind and took her makeup off. It was a pain in the ass, but not so much as it used to be when she was queen. Even the sight of Jamilia in the traditional garb made her cringe, because only she understood the time and discomfort that went into it all.

She smiled and remembered those early days of her first term, when she was just 14. Padmé was more patient and mature than any other at that age. Either that or else she wouldn't have been able to sit through the hours of grooming in the morning, and the hours of meetings and audiences that followed it, leaving her with little to no time to be idle.

She had that luxury now, but it felt as if the burden she carried had doubled in size and intensity when she came to Coruscant. It was her first step into a larger world, one she had been so ignorant of on Naboo.

Padmé then undressed and got into the shower before going to sleep. She knew she would be wide awake all night, thinking about the awful things that awaited her tomorrow, and the next day, and the next, but forced her eyes shut in spite of it all. She tossed and turned for hours.

* * *

Vader left the throne room feeling overwhelmed, though for different reasons than he supposed the senator did. It wasn't the severed body parts, or the threat of murdering her loved ones that shook him. Nor was it the force lightning. No, that wasn't real torture, only child's play. It was curious and even disappointing that his master insisted on being soft with her. If the small taste of anguish the Emperor had given her in the throne room was enough to rattle her, Vader concluded that if he were allowed to devote himself fully to this task that she could be dealt with in a far more timely manner.

Any stretch of time spent on pacifying her was wasted in his eyes. It made more sense to just kill her. Subversive senators disappeared all the time, and the mysterious circumstances surrounding those deaths would pique public interest for a week or so, but after that the headlines would be replaced by other, more recent events naturally. The Empire seldom had to apprehend anyone for breaking the strict rules that governed publications, at least not on Coruscant. So long as the individual was made to feel content, the stability of the larger system was never in question, and this was doubly true on wealthy planets. After all, why would any of them undermine the system from which they benefit?

Resistance in backwater sectors of the galaxy was another story, but again, easily controlled with a modified technique. Their weapons and technology tended to be outdated, and their numbers too small to make any meaningful difference. To Vader, squashing these tiny pockets of rebellion was a chore. For wherever it was destroyed, two more would swiftly take their place.

But his life was devoid of even the small pleasures these chores would give him to be confined to Coruscant until further notice. He was sure that his master would order him to finish the business on Shu-torun, but how long would that really take? Three days? Perhaps even less if the Alliance abandons it. If there was no good fight, Vader would be right back here in three short days, and still engaged to that awful woman with no hope of escape.

He supposed she probably felt the same way, and the fact that it would be as unpleasant for her as it would be for him was a small comfort. But even so, he failed to see the larger objective. Why did his master insist upon it? Was it solely to have more force sensitive children? If that were the case, it could have been anyone. Hell, if that was all he wanted there was no need to get married. No, that may be a part of it, but the only purpose here seemed to be to humiliate the senator. She would be seen as weak, a traitor, and none of her rebel friends would take her seriously anymore. It was more diabolical that simply killing her. His master wanted her to suffer, but that was his vendetta, not Vader's, so he couldn't understand why she was his responsibility.

The engagement wouldn't be announced for some time, or at least that's what his master told him and neglected to tell the senator. This made sense, so that the engineered progression of their relationship would seem more natural. But how long did his master mean by 'some time'? There were so many loose ends and indefinites that Vader knew he had no control over. It was driving him mad.

* * *

Padmé's morning at work was short and regular.

Only did the pace of the day change when she heard a knock at the door, and before she could process it she was greeted by a familiar face. Rush had decided to come for an impromptu visit, and Padmé wasn't sure how she felt about it. Under normal circumstances, she would have brushed him off, told him she was too busy to talk. But the events of the past couple of days weakened her.

"What is it?" she spat, barely looking up from what she was reading.

"I came to see how you were doing," Rush said, inching closer to the desk with each word, "I worry for your safety."

Padmé acknowledged him with a glance. "I'm doing well," she said quietly.

"You don't _look_ well. It's like you haven't slept in weeks," he said.

It was the truth. Padmé hardly slept the week following the news of her engagement, or ate much for that matter. She didn't have the energy to take care of herself, not when her family's safety was being threatened.

"Did you visit just to tell me I look unwell? If so, I'm flattered.

"I came to take you out to lunch," he said, uncharacteristically assertive in his tone. It seemed to Padmé that this was no more than another attempt to win her back, but for now she was willing to oblige him. After all, it was just lunch, not a marriage proposal.

She grimaced after her attempt at humor.

"Well I don't see why not."

He looked shocked by her words initially, but his features softened into a smile. As much as Padmé was reluctant to admit it, he _was_ quite handsome. She could see why she fell for him in the first place, that is, before his reckless behavior forced her to end it.

 _It's only lunch._

But it was more than just lunch. Everything about the walk to his speeder and the ride there reminded her of old times. The feelings of helplessness that had been constant ever since she crossed paths with Vader were melting away.

This was secure. Padmé knew she was in control, and it felt nice to have the upper hand. She was safe here.

She looked up and read the navy blue sign that read _Perlote_ in slim, white cursive. It was one of the spots that they frequented as a couple, and still one of her favorite Nubian restaurants on Coruscant. Though it wasn't the most authentic, it was instead the most delicious. Padmé was fascinated by the twist that foreigners put on her native planet's cuisine.

The waiter seated them at a smaller table by a large window with a splendid view of the cityscape. Rush pulled Padmé's chair out for her, and she noted that he was still the polite gentleman he was a year ago. Good manners were something that they had in common as reputable senators, and from similar upbringings.

"I must say, I'm surprised that you agreed to this. Pleasantly surprised, of course," Rush said.

"How could I refuse such an inviting offer from a friend?" she said, but this time with no sarcasm in her tone. She took a sip of her drink.

"You flatter me. But please, tell me how you are. Our paths so seldom cross these days."

"I've been keeping busy."

"Will you be attending Senator Breemu's party tomorrow night? I confess that I am not in the best of moods but an RSVP is a sacred, unbreakable bond," he joked.

"I couldn't refuse. There is a bill in the works that desperately needs her backing, and I saw it as the best opportunity to approach her about the details."

"I heard that Senator Mothma met with her recently. I assume you have shared business?"

"We always do," she said with a slight smile.

He paused.

"Listen, I know I haven't been there for you recently, and I forgive you for being wary of my intentions, but I _do_ know you, Padmé," he said, "And I can't help you if you aren't honest with me."

"I-I… appreciate your concern, but I seriously doubt there's anything you can do to help."

"Why don't you try me?" he said.

"You know of the precarious situation I am in with the Emperor. He has devised a punishment for my treason that is more humiliating than anything you could imagine," Padmé said, looking around to make certain nobody was eavesdropping.

Rush went quiet for a few minutes, presumably to think about her explanation, if it could be called that. It was beyond vague. For the life of him he couldn't understand what was so bad that she could accept no outside help.

"I can take you to Scipio, you'll be safe there-"

"Escape isn't an option. He has my father and sister," she said. She shuddered at the memory of their dead fingers in front of her. It was evidence that they had suffered. That they _were_ suffering.

"What if there was a way to find them?"

"They could be anywhere in the galaxy. It's hopeless. The only way to ensure their safety is to do what the Emperor asked of me."

"Is it really so deplorable?" Rush said.

"It will destroy me," she said, her eyes cast downward, "I will lose my friends and allies both in and outside of the senate. I want to know that when things begin to change, that you won't pass judgement on me like the others will."

"Of course I won't," Rush said. He reached across the table to put her hand in his.

Padmé could see what was happening, but she didn't have the energy or desire to stop it. She needed compassion and he gave it to her without hesitation or consequence. Everything about her hand in his felt so _right,_ even if it could have been anybody. Rush just happened to be there in that moment.

 _Don't make this harder for yourself when you have to say goodbye._

But this wouldn't be a real marriage, and it was possible that she would be permitted to see other people so long as she was discreet about it. It didn't seem too unreasonable a request, but if the purpose of this union was to make her suffer, she doubted it would be allowed.

Their waiter was back, this time with food. He set the dishes down on the table and left. The appealing smell hung in the air and brought Padmé some semblance of happiness.

"We don't have to talk about this anymore," he said with a smile, squeezing her hand.

* * *

There was trouble brewing, but Bail Organa was completely in the dark. He hadn't seen Padmé in days, but he didn't have to. Word of her meeting with the Emperor spread quickly, as did talk of her strange and antisocial behavior. Out of concern for her safety, he hadn't contacted her, and advised Mon to do the same.

It was possible for her to leave Coruscant with help, but it could backfire. There was no sense in making that decision for her, especially when he didn't understand the situation at hand.

"I want to speak with her," Mon said. His friend was seated on the opposite side of the desk, and he could see the determination in her brow.

She wanted a quick and tidy resolution to the problem as well, especially as they approached the next senate recess. Though they were becoming longer and more frequent, Bail sought solace in these vacations. They never seemed as long when most of his time was spent dealing with the day to day logistics of running the Alliance.

He could return to Alderaan sooner, see his wife for the first time in months. Perhaps they would try again for a child, a little prince or princess to continue his work. If the empire didn't topple during his lifetime, hope would remain.

"I would like to come along. We can pull her aside at Senator Breemu's party," he said.

"If she isn't too busy lobbying for the anti-slavery bill."

* * *

There were jedi still scattered throughout the galaxy, and Vader's favorite assignments involved finding and killing them. They were a challenge. They were _exciting._

But it had been months since he took care of Plo Koon, and since that, not a single ripple in the force. At least not one that he could detect. Even Vader could admit where he was lacking, and meditation didn't come easily to him when he was young and inexperienced, unlike combat and swordsmanship. Things were different now.

Sith apprentices always killed their masters.

It was certain that the galaxy would be a far better place should his master die. With Vader at the helm, he could finally bring peace and security to _his_ empire.

 _Focus._

Nothing. Stagnation.

Vader rose from the ground, noticing a new pain where his thigh met the prosthetic knee and calf. He decided that it was imperative that he see a doctor soon, though there would likely be little to do. There were always convenient complications that prevented him from taking adequate pain medication, or having the rest of his skin replaced, or whatever ought to have been a comfort.

All very convenient.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** Also, I thought I'd show you guys what I had in mind for Padmé's dress this chapter. Also you KNOW I'm on the lookout for Padmé's wedding dress. If anyone has any opinions, leave a review with your favorite designers!

* * *

Padmé's morning had barely begun, but already the day had proven itself to be a busy one. She had been off planet for a little over a day, and imprisoned for a few after that, but any amount of lost time was significant for the senator. Those days were emotionally and physically taxing as well, but there was no time to dwell on such matters. After all, wasn't giving herself grief over the proposal precisely what Palpatine wanted? No, there was no ways she would let herself become distracted from her work.

She would try not to think about yesterday's lunch either. Rush was yet another silly distraction, but at least she could release her inhibitions when she spent time with him. He may have been an idiot, but he was a pleasant and reliable idiot.

A loud knock at the door brought Padmé back to her office and away from her thoughts. She resented whoever it was for interrupting her peace. Her hands rested on her coffee cup for warmth as she took a long sip.

"Come in," she said, but before the words had left her mouth the visitor had entered. _How rude._

She wasn't surprised to see who had the nerve to disturb her at such an early hour, and her face twisted into a scowl as Vader entered the room with a swish of black. Her mind wandered and tried to figure out what he could possibly want now. She was lucky enough to have been rid of him for almost a week now, and her understanding of their deal was that she wouldn't have to, at least not regularly. She presumed that his schedule was packed, and that slaughtering innocents would take up enough of his time that he wouldn't have to visit her in the early hours of the morning. Evidently, this was an unfair assumption.

She racked her brain to figure out what, if anything, she had done wrong to warrant this meeting, but came up with nothing. Not a word or action that could be perceived as her stepping out of line. But just sitting in silence would do nothing, and Padmé preferred to begin the conversation on her own terms. This was her domain, after all.

"State your business," she said dryly.

"I come with orders from my master."

"Funny, by your reputation I wouldn't have imagined you as the Emperor's errand boy. Is he so busy that he couldn't have come to me with such a ridiculous request? Nonetheless, you can tell him that I refuse," Padmé said.

"He demands that I accompany you to tonight's event," he said.

It was those words that caused her to look up from her desk and narrow her eyes. He couldn't possibly mean Senator Breemu's party tonight, where she planned on negotiating with the difficult woman. His presence would ruin everything, not even just her relationship with the other senator. It would be social suicide. She would lose the respect of her closest friends and allies.

Padmé took a minute to contain herself, but when she spoke again her tone was hushed, but no less biting than it would have been if she shouted.

"Feel free to parade me around at parties that you were invited to, but tonight's party is awfully exclusive. They simply wouldn't have you."

"You misunderstand me. You are invited to one of the Emperor's galas, not your silly rebel party. Be ready to leave by 8, I already know where you live. Comply, and you guarantee the safety of your family members as well as your own."

"You misunderstand me. You will not be attending Senator Breemu's party tonight. Associating with known dissenters wouldn't be suitable to someone of your new standing. My master is throwing a gala tonight in honor of recent military triumphs in the outer rim," he said.

She was rendered speechless by his words, and when she parted her lips to say something, _anything,_ her throat went dry and the words simply would not come.

"I'm glad we can agree to not make matters worse by acting out. I will see you tonight," Vader said.

And as quickly as he had arrived, he was gone. Padmé grabbed her communicator with her right hand, dreading the fact that she would need to tell Breemu that she could not attend the party. What would she tell Bail and Mon? Rush? They were bound to figure it out eventually, but to tell them now would be too dangerous. They would demand she leave Coruscant, and abandon her family for the "greater good".

They just couldn't understand.

* * *

Padmé left work early that day, just as she planned on doing. Preparing for an event was difficult work, especially for someone who lived in the spotlight. She was _expected_ to be perfect, and the senator hated to disappoint. Even if a being's physical appearance was a frivolous matter, it is what grabs attention. And if that was what she needed to use beauty as a tool to help her cause, then so be it.

The first thing she noticed when she arrived at her apartment was that Dormé has returned from her trip home, and it was just what Padmé needed to feel more at ease, and just in time for the gala tonight. It was imperative that she look her best.

From the moment she walked in the door, the couch was calling her name. She slid her shoes off and laid back.

"Would you run a bath for me?" Padmé asked, and her handmaiden left for the bathroom. She was prompted to follow five minutes after, by the sound of rushing water.

From there, it was all standard routine. These was a ritual that Padmé had undergone a thousand times over, and would likely repeat another thousand times. She undressed and handed the pieces of her outfit to Dormé one by one, who would return them to their proper place in her closet. She then stepped into the bath, which was hotter than most prefer, but perfect to relieve the tension in her body. The heat gave off enough steam to fill the bathroom.

Dormé returned to wash her hair. She did it far better than Padmé could have hoped to do herself. Her touch was neither too light nor too firm, and the massaging of shampoo into her scalp was calming. Padmé could feel her muscles relaxing in the hot water.

After she finished bathing, there was hair and makeup to contend with. Padmé stepped into the comfort of her robe and left the bathroom. She sat on the chair in front of her vanity and glanced over at tonight's dress. It was something she bought weeks ago in anticipation for a sudden invitation. She selected it specifically for Senator Breemu's party, but it would have to do for this silly gala instead. It was far from Padmé's standards for formalwear, but it was better than recycling an old gown.

It was a slate gray thing with gold trim on the sides. It had a regal look to it, something akin to what she would've worn as queen. The neckline was awfully low now that she was thinking about it, and she regretted having to wear something so revealing into enemy territory. She couldn't even tolerate the way they looked at her when she was completely covered. But she was so taken by the intricacy of the designs that she simply had to have it, and it was her only viable option.

Dormé returned in time to start on her hair. It would be something akin to what she usually wore, but too complex for her to manage on her own.

"I'm very happy to see you back. How is your family? Did you enjoy your visit?"

"They are well, and you'll be delighted to know that most parts of Naboo are faring surprisingly well under the Empire. It is fortunate that we haven't seen the destruction of our planet and culture like so many other worlds."

"I've no doubt that the we are enjoying the Emperor's favoritism."

"I believe a trip home might do you some good as well, you know that Theed is beautiful this time of year," Dormé said. She brushed out Padmé's hair and started braiding where the bun would be.

"That would be lovely, if only it were possible. I've found myself in a difficult situation in the time you've been gone."

"Should you like to be more specific?"

"An arranged marriage," Padmé said.

"With whom?"

"I… would prefer not to say it out loud. Telling someone would make it feel more real. But rest assured that it is someone truly deplorable."

Dormé nodded as a gesture of understanding, and didn't try to probe her any further. She simply continued styling her hair while Padmé worked on makeup. This was something she could do well, and it was almost therapeutic. Though she couldn't relax herself in the face of the humiliation that was to come. All she could do was look good while doing it.

Senator Breemu wouldn't take kindly to her absence from her party, and she would be particularly livid once she knew where Padmé had gone instead. It was certain to cause controversy. Some would laugh, others would just cut off contact and believe her to be a traitor to the cause.

After she escaped, she planned to find Bail or Mon and ask them to look into her family's whereabouts. Perhaps Master Kenobi could sense them through the force and assess their location. Once she knew they were safe, Padmé could start planning her escape from Coruscant.

* * *

Vader's patience was dwindling before the night began. He had been waiting for the senator outside of her building for what seemed like ages before she hurried out the door and into the passenger seat of the speeder.

She somehow looked even more beautiful than usual, and he imagined it took her hours to get ready. It was almost a shame that something so pretty was in for a night of humiliation at his master's hands.

"Let's get this over with." She finally spoke, without so much as glancing in his direction.

"Believe me senator, this is equally as unpleasant for me as it is for you." He started driving, and he felt the senator jolt at the sudden increase in speed. She was obviously uncomfortable and frightened, but too proud to admit it.

 _This could be fun._

So she didn't like it when he drove fast? He made a point of continuing at the same speed for the duration of the trip, just to watch her squirm. If he had to take the time out of his busy schedule to do silly things like attend parties, then the only fun he could have was to make this just as unbearable for her.

It wasn't long until they had reached the palace. He left the vehicle and turned to face the senator. He offered his arm, as it was something he'd seen men do at these types of events. She looked at him in disbelief before stepping out of the speeder on her own. Obviously she was determined to make this difficult.

The palace steps were a smooth, white marble. She led the way up them, with her heels clicking softly against the hard surface. Vader followed and caught up with her.

"We leave as soon as possible. Do you understand?" she said.

"I have to agree."

The pair did their best to slip inside unnoticed, and it was surprisingly effective. Vader scanned the room and found that the partygoers were too occupied with whomever they had been talking to or dancing with to pay attention to them at first.

Vader could feel his heartbeat quickening and his palms became sweaty. These events, given that they were full of people, brought a crippling anxiety that he would never admit to having. Even Anakin wasn't this childish.

"Just follow my lead and it'll all be over soon," she said.

"I'm listening."

"You have two options right now. The first is to dance with me, and the second is to find someplace far from everyone else to sit until it's time to leave. Choose quickly because people have already seen us."

* * *

Padmé was trying her best to remain composed. She knew now that she would essentially be babysitting Vader, because Palpatine didn't have the sense to teach him the first thing about manners or social graces.

Kriff it all to hell.

Before she could hurry him away somewhere he couldn't embarrass himself, she heard an all too familiar voice.

"My my, how delightful it is to see you here Senator Amidala."

 _Tarkin._

She swallowed her disdain and forced a slight smile.

"Governor Tarkin, the pleasure is all mine," she said.

"May I have this next dance? We have too much to catch up on."

"Of course," she said, giving Vader a nod that he could leave to find the aforementioned quiet corner.

It was only seconds later that the next song began and the two eased into a waltz. She couldn't help but feel awkward, both about where she was and who she was dancing with. These were not only her sworn enemies, but the enemies to freedom and democracy themselves.

"Tell me, what are you doing here?" Tarkin asked.

"Pardon me?"

"I asked what you're doing here, specifically with Lord Vader."

"I am here because I was invited," she said. Her reply was curt and she wasn't too keen on playing twenty questions with Tarkin of all people. Evil as he was, the man was sharp as a whip and powerful to boot. She hadn't made a true enemy of him yet and planned to steer clear in the future.

"Have it your way then, Senator. But I'll find out what you're up to soon enough. I hope for your sake it isn't what it looks like," he said.

"And what exactly does it look like? Humor me."

"I knew that you liked to play _games_ to get what you want, and it may work on other men, but this is a mistake."

Padmé couldn't stifle her laughter any more, so it came spilling out. "Oh Governor, you couldn't be further from the truth. I want nothing more to be rid of him and the lot of you."

"I suppose the truth will come out then, one way or another. I look forward to it," he said. The song ended and he stepped away from Padmé to attend to other things.

* * *

To make matters worse, Padmé glanced across the ballroom to find Rush Clovis making an impromptu appearance. It didn't take long for him to approach her and ask to dance, which was presumably why he had come here uninvited in the first place. He had been staring from across the room, but so was everyone else. Well, they were paying less attention to her and more attention to who she was with. It was like she dressed up for nothing.

"Can I have this dance?"

"It would be rude to refuse, but I have to ask what int he world you're doing here," She flashed a nervous smile and took his hand. He drew her into his arms and they began waltzing slowly.

"I came as soon as I noticed your absence. I figured you might've been here. So this is why you didn't come to Breemu's party. I have to say, she's very unhappy with you. Apparently she wanted to discuss an upcoming bill," Rush said.

"Believe me, this wasn't my decision. He just showed up at my office today, saying that the Emperor insisted upon it."

"I know you said you were in trouble, but I had no idea it was like _this_ ," Rush whispered.

There it was. The judgement had already entered his tone, and she could feel his interest in her predicament waning. She should have known this would happen.

"Don't go spreading this around, but we're technically engaged," Padmé said.

His face froze instantly, draining itself of all color. Rush avoided looking her in the eye, as if he was repulsed by her now.

His reaction wasn't helping Padmé's good mood, and it seemed to be an indicator of how everyone else would react. Of course he was disgusted. Hell, even she was disgusted. Palpatine knew what he was doing.

"You two haven't… I mean, he hasn't-" Rush started.

"No. Not yet."

"Then it's not too late. Leave with me tonight. I can take you to a different star system, somewhere safe."

"I won't abandon my family. Their safety relies on my cooperation," she said.

"You aren't thinking straight. Would they really want you to do this for them? Throw your life away? Your _freedom_?"

"I don't care what _they_ want, what _I_ want is for them to live full, happy lives and they can't do that without my sacrifice." Padmé was stumbling on her words and practically in tears.

The song ended before either of them realized, but before she could react, Rush pulled her aside and into the next room. He made certain that they were alone with a sweeping glance around the space. Once he was satisfied with the level of privacy, he opened his mouth to speak.

"You're coming with me. I can't just stand by and let this happen to you," he said.

"Let go of me immediately," Padmé said. She tried to walk away but he stopped her.

"Not until you listen to me." He gripped her arms harder.

"The answer is still no," She dipped her head so she was no longer facing him.

"I can have my ship ready by tomorrow. Pack your things and leave work early. As soon as you're safe we can have a _future,_ Padmé. Imagine it." Rush loosened his grip until letting go entirely. She let out a sigh of relief and walked away without giving a response. She was sure it would only encourage him and his delusions, but it didn't matter. She was far too tired.

Padmé left the back room quickly, and hoped that he had enough good sense to wait a couple minutes to leave so as to avoid implicating themselves. She took a drink from one of the passing platters and downed it as she surveyed the room.

* * *

Vader cursed his master for ordering him to attend this ostentatious display of wealth. He couldn't even have been bothered to come.

After the typical string of governors and admirals desperately trying to get in his good graces, Vader was left alone, so alone that he had an entire room to himself. He took time time to observe it. It was rather beautiful, with deep red walls and bronze furniture that screamed elegance. There were several paintings adorning the wall. Some were portraits, others were landscapes. The room was more than just elegant, it felt warm and inviting.

This was all well and good to him until the senator burst into the room, drink in hand, and took a seat at the adjacent chair. She looked dejected, like his master's plans to ruin her night had worked quite well.

"I take it you aren't enjoying yourself," Vader said.

"This is as unpleasant for me as it is for you." She sighed and took a sip of her drink, "But you know what the secret is to these parties?"

The senator took his silence as permission to continue, as she so often did.

"Alcohol. A little bit will make you kinder, happier, more approachable."

He supposed she was right. In that moment, she was being friendlier than usual. Her features softened, and he had seen her with the others. She was quicker to laugh and smile. But even so, it was a different story then. She looked like the night had taken its toll on her, though he wasn't sure what exactly had happened. He could even see the beginnings of bruises on her upper arms.

The senator moved to fish something out of her bag. It was a small, golden flask. It was so delicate, and covered with engravings. She took a swig.

"Here, if you're as miserable as I am you'll need it. See? It isn't poisoned or anything like that." She offered it to him.

"I can't."

"Sure you can. I'll even look away." She covered her eyes with her hands and turned around, laughing all while doing so.

Vader examined the flask again. He was able to see the inscription clearly now, scrawled in thin cursive.

 _Padmé Naberrie Amidala_

He wasn't sure why he was so receptive to the senator's idea, but he figured it wouldn't do any harm, so he turned around, lifted the fabric of his mask, and took a rather large sip. The first thing he noticed was the sharp stinging in his throat. Vader hardly expected alcohol to be anything like this, hell, he wondered how anyone could tolerate this stuff, let alone drink it for pleasure.

The senator let out a quiet laugh. "You don't belong here, it's almost sad. Have you no manners?"

"And why would I need them? Perhaps if you spent half the time you spent at these silly parties working for the cause you so stupidly cling to, things may have turned out differently."

"I-I just thought you would have been more well versed in social matters, that's all."

"And why would you think that?"

"Because you're Palpatine's protegee. It's no secret that these things are important in his mind. How can you replace him if you don't have a grasp of basic etiquette? It seems as if you're being set up for failure."

"It isn't my job to be a gentleman, Senator. And what are his manners for, anyways? To convince the likes of you that he isn't as bloodthirsty and barbaric as I am? Tell me, how effective is it?"

"What does it matter? My point is that I think I can be of some assistance," Padmé said.

"Go on."

"You've been put at a disadvantage and if you'd like to survive in this world, you'll need to learn certain skills. It just so happens that I have had years of practice in this area, and in exchange for a favor from you, I can help."

"And what is this favor?" he asked.

"Debug my apartment. I'm sick of being watched and I want all of it gone."

He wasn't surprised that she found them, at the very least she would have caught on to the ones his master planted in her communicators. He _could_ remove them and accept her offer without his master discovering that they were gone. He was too preoccupied with far more important matters to notice.

"You're drunk," he said.

"So?"

"In that case, I accept your offer, Senator."

"Excellent. You can come by later today to do what I've asked. We can also discuss how you wanna begin," she said, giggling.

"I think it would be best if we leave now."

She had downed everything in her flask, and he didn't need the force to sense that she was compromised. Her cheeks were rosier than usual, and her smile didn't fade, nor did it look forced. He didn't mind seeing the senator like this at all.

"That _does_ sound best," she said.

"What happened to your arms?" He asked as they walked away from the gala and toward the speeder.

She just shook her head. "That's none of your business."

Eventually they made it to the speeder, and this time the senator accepted his help in getting up to her seat. It was in that close proximity that he realized how attractive she actually was. He couldn't single out any one feature that he liked best. Was it her deep brown eyes? Her voice? Her figure?

If she wasn't beyond annoying, the idea of being married to her might have held some merit. But if he _had_ to sleep with someone, he was glad it would be her. Eventually she would learn to just shut up and give up on that silly rebel alliance, and then things could be bearable.


End file.
